


Magic Bound & Unbound

by SalParadiseLost



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Animal Traits, Awkward Lance, Bold of you to assume I had a proper amount of sleep while writing any of this, Curses, Familiar Keith, Familiar Pidge, Familiar Shiro, Familiars, Fluff and Angst, Galra Keith, Hunk (Voltron) is so Pure, Hurt/Comfort, Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Adoptive Siblings, Keith (Voltron) Needs a Hug, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith whump, Lance (Voltron) Needs a Hug, M/M, Magic, Magic AU, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Protective shiro, Send coffee and cookies, Shiro is the best brother, Slow Burn, Soulbonds, Urban Magic, Witch & Familiar AU, Witch Allura, Witch Hunk, Witch Lance, broganes, hurt keith, kinda he has those fluffy ears, sarcastic pidge, the writer is tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-06-22 07:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 56,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15577290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalParadiseLost/pseuds/SalParadiseLost
Summary: Set in a world where familiars and witches are paired to perform magic together, Lance is an aspiring witch who is desperate to find his bondmate. He's dreamed of the day when he would be able to perform bonded magic, but hides a dark secret that could ruin everything. Keith is a familiar who's seen a little too much of the world. He's been paired with witches multiple times and each one has forced and broken a bond on him, so now he swears off ever letting himself be paired again.When they meet, though, Lance triggers something in Keith and it scares the hell out of him. A part of him desperately wants to be paired, but he's not sure he can take rejection one more time.AKA the witch/familiar AU





	1. How a Bond is Formed

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone and thank you for coming to my story! This idea has been in my folders for a while and I'm excited that I finally get to share it with you.  
> This work couldn't have together without the help of my betas Cyanofficial and Zohaven, who brought my writing to the next level and are some true MVP's. Also thank you to everyone who had offered to beta earlier or sent kudos to the teaser of this story! Your support helped prompt me to keep going with this idea and I hope you also love this first chapter.  
> My betas and I are furiously working on the coming chapters of this story, so I hope to see you all again very soon!
> 
> My tumblr is [ salparadiselost ](salparadiselost.tumblr.com) for those who are interested.

**Chapter 1: How a Bond is Formed**

**Keith**

**Before**

Keith opened his eyes and found himself in a dark place. The absence of light was overwhelming, filling him instantly with a sense of deep set panic. A musky, damp scent inundated his nose, sickeningly familiar, but still nauseating. There was no sound, only the frantic beating of his heart ringing in his ears. A chill swept down his back, making his fur stand on end and ice trickle down his spine. His magic began churning, unsure of what was happening, but ready to use if he needed it. He tried to move, but something kept him trapped. Was it another cage? A leash? A collar around his neck? Was he so used to the restraints that he hardly felt them anymore? The thought made Keith sick to his stomach, and he fought not to get caught up in it. He had to figure out what was happening.

Just as he was about to throw himself forward, a laugh cut through the silence like a knife. Keith immediately folded his ears back. That laugh haunted him. It was as dark as the place itself and as sharp as broken glass. It was toxic and nothing good ever came from the sound. Keith had hoped that he would never hear it again.

“Still trying to struggle, halfling?” the voice said with a sadistic snicker. “You know it never worked for you before.”

Keith’s mind roared in his head as he desperately tried to figure out what was happening. Why was he back here? Didn’t Shiro save him from-

“Are you listening, you dirty little beast?” the voice was suddenly right next to his face cutting across his thoughts.

He tried to jump back, desperate to get away from the voice, but slammed into metal bars. They burned against his skin, but before he could really feel it he turned in another direction.  He hoped desperately that there would be another way out, but saw he was closed in at all sides. A cage, he realised as the hopelessness of the situation really began to set it. He stared at the bars in anger, and noticed their faint glamour. A magic cage, he thought and the fear in his stomach grew. A cage that would let the caster in and wouldn’t let the victim out. His panicked mind begged him to try, though, and launched himself at the bars, hoping that they would give. He thrashed wildly against them, fuelled by fear, and kept fighting even as his muscles began to ache. They begged him to stop, but he had to get away. He had to.

“So naughty” the voice crooned, and all the sudden, Keith felt a hand begin to run through his hair. He wanted to scream, he wanted to bite, he wanted to use the magic roaring inside him, anything to get that hand off of him, but his body didn’t listen. He sat frozen as those cruel fingers stroked from his hair and to his folded-back ears. He couldn’t help the tears that came when the hand clasped one of them.

Such a simple action, but yet it had so much power over him. Inside him, the magic cowered at what he knew was coming.

“If I do remember correctly, these are quite sensitive aren’t they?” The voice asked, amusement clear in the tone. “Wouldn’t want me to have to use that against you, would you?” It said and the hand holding his ear tightened.

Pain instantly burst on the side of Keith’s head, hitting him like a bullet. He couldn’t help the inhuman scream that ripped out of his throat or the tears that ran freely down his face. His magic twisted against the abuse, thrashing and writhing like an animal in death throes. And it felt so _wrong_ too, to know that something physical was touching his magic and hurting him through his magic. It was all too much, screaming through his mind. The pain, the wrong, they were everything and Keith desperately wished that he could black out, just so it would stop.

The hand eventually released his ear, but not before petting him again. A fierce angry part of him wanted to bite the hand and tear it from the arm, but that was lost to his all-consuming terror.

“Good kitty, now let’s finish what I came here for.”

Keith smelt it before he felt it- an acidic, poisonous scent that slithered into the room like a viper. It reared its head and all of a sudden, he felt it in his mind.

The foreign magic dripped into him, despite how much he fought to keep it out. His own magic roared in protest, slamming against the foreign magic with everything it had. But it was weaker from the assault on his ear, and Keith could feel it’s movements were pained. All of it was futile, though. He knew his magic could never break through, even if it was at its best. He had been a victim of this spell enough times to know.

He couldn’t stop fighting, though, and tried to use his magic to do anything to keep the voice’s away from him. His magic, normally a bright and fervent fire, was beginning to weaken as the spell started to take effect. The foreign magic twisted around his and began suffocating it, slowing killing any power it had left.

Keith shook and thrashed as he felt the last of his magic’s strength flicker out. The fire inside him, usually so bright and burning, was now a cold ember. His magic lay still, as vulnerable and exposed as a patient etherised upon a table. Nausea swept through him as the violation of the act truly hit him. He wanted to scream, but fought to keep everything in, to not give that bastard the satisfaction.  And yet, his heart pounded furiously in his chest as if it was a bird stuck in a cage.

The voice above him hummed. “And now for my favourite part,” it whispered, the words clear in the silence.

The foreign magic entered him again, now much stronger as it wasn’t competing against Keith’s own. It twisted through him, slithered along his insides and then slowly began wrapping itself around Keith’s vulnerable magic.

Then it pulled.

Keith screamed as he felt the bond being forced on him, forged from magic pulled from his body. It felt like everything inside of him was collapsing and exploding at once. His magic sparked violently as if it was being electrocuted. He couldn’t focus on anything, other than the pain and the wrongness as his magic was taken and twisted against his will.

He didn’t know how long it took, but eventually the pain subsided. The bond was still cruelly in place. Keith was frozen on the ground, unable to do anything but heave at the air. His eyes were wide, but they saw nothing. His claws dug deeply into the ground, the muscles taut against his bones.

All he could do was feel the forced bond and the foreign magic mingling with his.

Nausea rose up immediately, and Keith scrambled to his hands and knees before starting to heave. His stomach clenched and he tried to throw up, but there wasn’t anything left in him. His whole body shuddered and he nearly collapsed back on the ground.

There was movement in the darkness and the hand returned to his head.

“Now that wasn’t so hard,” it said simply. “Welcome home, Keith.” The voice started laughing, growing in volume until it filled the entire room and rang in Keith’s ears. The sound echoed it his head, grating against his mind. It was it last thing he heard as the world faded around him and he blacked out.

 

Keith didn’t know how long he had been here. The bastard had been in many times for their little “visits” leaving Keith a little more delirious each time. He couldn’t even remember the details of this place or who the witch was. This place was traumatising, but one of many and they all blurred in his head. After all, they were all the same in the end. They were all dark, cramped and painful. They existed to torture him, keep him against his will and break him down piece by piece.

He didn’t know what he had done in life to deserve this torture. He used to think that he was a generally good person, and yet something _something_ had to be wrong with him or else his life wouldn’t have turned into shades of black.

He turned in his cage, his legs jutting uncomfortably against the bars. They screamed at him to flex them, use his muscles, but he didn’t have enough room to even do that. He bit back a whimper when a pain in his lower back started to flare up and he grit his teeth until it eventually died down. It didn’t go away, but it became a deep-set ache which was slightly more tolerable.

Inside of him, his magic flickered dully. Usually, his magic would be rushing to his aid and easing the pain. But not now, not while it was captured by that bastard’s spell, it only whined like a wounded animal.

Who was he kidding. He _was_ a wounded animal.

His magic was in tatters at this point, twisted and mauled into something that Keith almost didn’t recognise. The forced bond had reshaped it painfully and into something that Keith couldn’t use and could barely feel.

The absence hurt more than any wound, like a deep essential part of Keith was missing.

After all, what was a familiar, a creature that was literally a manifest of wild magic, without his magic.

_Pathetic,_ Keith’s mind helpfully provided and he flicked his ears back as if that would help him from hearing the words. His tail thumped against the bars of the cage filling the room with a tinny sound.

It wasn’t like he didn’t know it, though. The Garrison had many words to describe a familiar like him: _difficult, broken, refractory, unmanageable, rebellious._ All of them meant the same thing though- that eventually he would be disposed of. That’s what happened to familiars that didn’t follow the rules. He had just hoped that it would be painless. He had hoped it wouldn’t be, he looked around the room, this.

And an even smaller part of him had hoped that maybe a witch would look past all his flaws and see something that was possibly worth keeping.

Maybe they would have even formed a bond. An unforced one, one that wasn’t this god-awful thing that corroded in his chest like acid _._

He curled into the tightest ball he could manage and desperately tried not to cry over a life that was never meant to be his. _Why are you sad?_ he cursed to himself, _that was never yours, that was never meant to be yours, you don’t deserve it._

The tears didn’t come, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. He hadn’t had anything to drink since he got here, and, though he couldn’t tell how much time had passed , he knew it had to be a while. His body was shutting down on him. No water, no food, no room to move around. He knew he didn’t have much time.

Suddenly, on the other side of the dark place, a door burst open and filled the room with light. Keith, after being in the dark for who knows how long, squeezed his eyes shut against the assault and prayed that the bastard hadn’t come back for seconds.

“Keith!” a familiar voice yelled and Keith froze. But not out of terror, out of shock. He forced his eyes open, pricked his ears forward and finally saw the figure haloed in light. Joy leapt into his throat when he saw his brother’s familiar wings and face. He looked like an avenging angel standing there against the light.

“Shiro,” he croaked as loud as he could manage. His throat was scratchy and rough from all the screaming.

Shiro immediately rushed into the room, following his voice. When he saw the cage that Keith was trapped in, his face twisted in rage and Keith couldn’t help flinching back. He was instantly guilty when he saw the other familiar’s hurt look, but couldn’t help it. It was all so much, he felt like he was losing his mind.

Shiro whispered encouragingly to him, approaching him like he was a wounded animal. Keith was too delirious to care, barely keeping consciousness. He focussed on his brother’s voice, though, not his words, he was too far gone to understand them, but the tone was soft and caring and promised that everything would be ok. God, he desperately wanted to believe that.

He heard a click and fought to see what his brother was doing. His hands were… dancing? No, they were fiddling with something. Then suddenly the bars in front of his face were pulled away.

Hands came into the cage. Not rough hands this time- gentle hands, Shiro’s hands and Keith felt himself being pulled into a warm chest and soft wings. He breathed heavily basking in his brother’s safe scent and protective touch.

Keith hadn’t been sure if Shiro was going to rescue him quick enough this time. After all, it was the fifth time this had happened and this one was much worse.

Keith whined when his brother lifted him. His muscles protested the sudden stretching after being cramped in the cage for so long. Blood rushed to his head and his world spun. There was nothing but movement, Shiro’s apologetic voice and pain. So much pain.

And as his world shifted and swam, Keith idly wondered if maybe Shiro wouldn’t come quick enough next time.

 

* * *

 

**Lance**

**Now**

“Shit shit shit shit” Lance whispered to himself as he flung clothes out of his closet. Nothing good was clean, and everything that was clean didn’t match. If only he had done laundry yesterday like he was supposed to, then he wouldn’t be in this situation.

Inside him his magic, twirled and spun, playfully teasing him in its movement. It flowed like water inside chest, babbling like a crooked brook. Normally, he would pay attention to it, drawing it out and playing with it- but today he was on a mission.

After ten more minutes of searching, he groaned and shut the closet door with a loud bang. He held up the only pair of clothes that he had that didn’t look like a completely fashion disaster- a yellow shirt and a pair of orange shorts. Jesus Christ, his skin was going to clash and he was going to look like a friggin’ sunbeam. Great. Awesome. Wonderful start of the day.

Lance held back another groan and hastily put on the offending clothing. He took a look in the mirror and flinched when he saw how freakin’ bright he looked. Great, just great. He looked just as sunny as he thought he would- people might have to wear a pair of sunglasses around him. Fan-fucking-tastic.

 He started to leave, but his eyes caught on the mirror in the corner of his room. He met his reflection’s eyes in the glass, blue challenging blue. Then slowly he pulled down the collar of his shirt, revealing the dark tattoo against his skin. Today would be the day, he promised himself. Today had to be the day.

He turned away from the mirror, not daring to risk those darker thoughts and left the room. He climbed down the stairs to the main kitchen area and saw his roommate Hunk and his familiar Pidge were already in the kitchen. She took one look at him and smirked.

“Good morning, sunshine” she tittered and the feathers on her wings shook in amusement.

“Shut up, you little gremlin.” Lance snapped back, glaring at the bird-hybrid familiar. Somehow his angry look wasn’t effective enough and only made the girl snicker more.

“It’s not my fault that someone decided beating me in Mario Kart was more important than laundry last night.” Her glasses gleamed.

Lance narrowed his eyes at her as both hands moved to his hips. The little bird was way too smart for her own good.

“Hunk, your familiar is bullying me.” Lance whined, hoping that maybe his best friend would give him some sympathy. Instead of support, though, the other boy just laughed and slid a few pieces of French toast his way.

“You and I both know that Pidge does whatever she wants.” Pidge perked up and looked quite pleased with herself. Even the feathers on her wings seemed to glisten with pride. Lance had no idea how she did that, but then again he kinda never knew how Pidge did anything with those wings on her back.

“So,” Hunk’s voice startled Lance out of his thoughts about Pidge’s wings and back into reality, “are you nervous about today?”

At Hunk’s words, the tight ball of feelings that Lance had been suppressing by stubbornly _not_ thinking about later today, came back full force. The nerves clenched in his stomach and all the worrying thoughts flooded back into his mind.

He gave a bitter laugh and looked down, at the toast he had nervously been fiddling with. “I was actually kinda trying not to think about it. You know, I wouldn’t be so anxious.”

“Oh” Lance glanced up in time to see that he had made his friend was making his kicked puppy face.

“Wait, no, Hunk, my bud, my bro, my bromigo, you didn’t say something wrong! I’m just being dumb.” Lance scrambled, his hands flying in the air, trying to get Hunk to smile again.

Hunk, bless his soul, cracked a smile and Lance could breathe again.

“I don’t think you’re being dumb” Pidge cut into the conversation as she chomped on her toast, “it’s a big day. I mean, you could meet your familiar today, so that’s exciting.”

Lance smiled and the little ball of nerves turned in his stomach as he repeated the words in his head. _I could meet my familiar today._

He wondered who it would be. Would they be nice? Messy? Cute? Awkward? Smart? Would they even like him? When he got past his fears about making a fool of himself in front of someone he would spend his life with, he was very excited.

He just hoped today was the day.

 “Yeah, I guess I am excited.” He admitted and both Hunk and Pidge gave him a little cheer. He smiled, thankful he had friends as awesome as this. “I just hope that our bond is as strong as you guys.” He said, turning the conversation.

“I don’t know,” Pidge teased, leaning forward on her arms. Her wings shifted in response and hunched forward on her shoulders. “Hunk and I have a pretty good thing going on.”

Hunk shook his head, though. “Lance, don’t worry about that. Your familiar will love you, how can they not, and I’m sure your bond will be crazy strong.”

Lance accepted that, and began crunching on his toast again.

Hunk and Pidge had a very strong bond and he was sure that they had a ton of resonance. Lance didn’t need a resonist to tell him that. He could see it in how comfortable they were around each other and the way that they could almost predict what the other was going to do.

He also saw it in the way that they used their magic. Together, Hunk and Pidge were master creationists, and able to meld magic and science into intricate inventions. If they had a weaker bond, they wouldn’t be able to control their magic so finely and the lack of resonance would clash against each other.

They had one of the strongest bonds Lance had ever seen and he just hoped that his could compare.

“You done?” Hunk said motioning to his Lance’s plate. He nodded and gave the other boy the dish. He rinsed it and stuck it in the dishwasher. “I think we’re about ready to go.” He said, while taking a quick look around the kitchen to make sure everything was clean.

“Ready, Lance?” Pidge slid up beside him, and Lance swallowed his nerves the best he could.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

 

Hunk drove silently in the car and Lance drummed his fingers on his knee while Pidge flew overhead. She rarely rode in the car because it cramped her wings, plus she loved any chance she got to fly. Usually the car ride to the Garrison was a loud one, full of Lance and Hunk singing pop songs at the top of their lungs. This time, though, there was no singing and Lance fought against the nervous nausea that rose when the Garrison came into view.

Hunk parked, and before Lance could get out of the car, Hunk leaned over and put a hand on Lance’s shoulder. Lance blinked and looked up to meet Hunk’s kind brown eyes.

“Hey, it’s gonna to be ok,” he sounded so sincere that Lance couldn’t help but be moved. “There is no way that they couldn’t love you.”

Lance smiled, but he could feel it was forced. He wanted to assure Hunk that he believed him, but he had heard those words so many times. And the past had proven them wrong so many times.

Every year the Garrison hosted the annual Familiar Bond Selection and brought in available familiars from all around the country to bond with their witches. Every year, Lance had gone. And every year, he had been rejected by every single familiar.

And this year would be his last. The event was supposed to be for ten-year olds. Lance was seventeen, the oldest witch in the Garrison to not have a familiar. Next year, when he was an adult he wouldn’t be allowed to participate and he would have to come to terms with the fact that his magic just wasn’t strong enough.

He got out of the car and straightened his yellow shirt. He scowled at the thing and Hunk jokingly told him that his shirt would not discourage any waiting familiars.

“Can’t we just go back home so I can change it? Maybe do a few loads of laundry.” Lance said, and Hunk laughed while shaking his head no. Guess, there was no getting out of this now.

Together, they walked up the familiar steps into the Garrison gym, where the event was hosted each year. The building was huge with several indoor courts, tracks and even a swimming pool in the far corner. Light poured in from the huge skylights above, brightening everything across the floor.

Usually the gym was just a flat expanse of flooring, but today there were hundreds of people mingling about. The witches all wore brightly coloured tags that corresponded to the type of magic they favoured. The familiars were all easy enough to pick out from their animal traits, but also wore similar tags, though theirs were a different shape.

Lance noticed how there was markedly less familiars than witches. Just like every year.

Behind him, Pidge suddenly made a noise of annoyance and gave him a little shove in the back. The push was enough to make him stumble forward and he shot a glare back. Neither of them looked even a little bit guilty and instead motioned for him to go on.

“Some friends I got,” he muttered under his breath and walked up to the check-in desk. Behind it was a pretty middle-aged woman with laugh lines and her long hair pulled back with a head band. Beside her was feathered familiar that gave him a smile as he walked up.

“Hello,” she said kindly, “What can we do for you today?”

“Hi, my name is Lance McClain-Rios and I’m here for the familiar selection.”

“The familiar selection?” She repeated, looking him up and down. He could see her doing the obvious math in her head, trying to figure out how this seventeen-year old was at an event for ten-year olds. He looked at the ground, not wanting to see the pity in her eyes when she figured out what that meant.

“Okay, sweetie, let us just find your name on the list.” She looked at her companion, who was already searching through the names.

“Oh, here he is,” the familiar chirped, taking a highlighter and crossing through his name. “Lance McClain-Rios, water elemental. Is that correct?”

“Yep, that’s me.” He chuckled nervously.

The two ladies worked together to find him a blue tag and write his name and number on it.  Once they were done they handed the tag over and instructed him to place it on his chest.

“Thanks” he said once he was done, both of smiled warmly at him.

“Good luck out there,” one said

“I’m sure someone will love you.” Said the other. Lance gulped and thanked them again, trying not to let the backhanded encouragement fluster him. He knew she hadn’t meant it like that.

He walked into the gym and was once again struck with how he had no idea what he was doing. People milled around everywhere and usually that didn’t bother him, but they were all at least five years younger than him. He stood out like a sore thumb because he was at least a head taller than everyone else.

Was there really no chance of just going back home?

He looked over to the side of the gym where Hunk and Pidge stood. When he caught their eyes, they waved like proud parents. He gave them a sour look and stubbornly tried to find a familiar to talk to.

He started with the water familiars because those were the ones that he had the greatest chance of resonating with. He quickly found who he thought was the oldest (even though she was still at least three years younger than him) and began to strike up a conversation with her.

She was a sweet girl with braids in her hair and pretty dark skin that was mottled with indigo scales. Lance couldn’t exactly pin down what animal hybrid she was. Snake or maybe a fish? Or maybe a mix of animals? Mixes were really common these days.

Her magic was kind too, easy to mix with, but a little cold for Lance’s taste. His own magic shivered within him to back up the statement. Idly, he wondered what his magic felt like to her. Probably rambunctious, that’s usually the word that familiars used as a reason not to bond

They talked for a bit and soon it became clear that they weren’t meant to be bonded. Anyways, Lance could see the way that her eyes kept flicking to a light witch a little ways off.

Lance smiled at her and followed her eyes to the light witch. “Hey, you should go talk to him.” he whispered and she immediately widened her eyes looking startled.

“No, I don’t want to be rude,” she stammered obviously flustered, but when she met Lance’s kind eyes, she began to calm down. “Do you really think so?” she said, her voice small.

“Of course. He could be the one.” Lance said, “Don’t worry about me, there’s a lot of fish in the sea.” She giggled and thanked him for the conversation before walking off. He smiled as he watched the two strike up a conversation. The girl was smiling a lot more than she had with him and he could practically see the bond forming between the two.

Eventually, after watching them for a bit, he sighed and went back to his own search.

He talked to a few other familiars and even began to branch out to ones with different elements than him. They were all nice, but they were all so painfully young and obviously looking for someone around their age.

Lance could see a younger him in all of them, so eager to find their someone and begin their journey. At that age, Lance was so sure that he would have a familiar. He was so sure that his magic was good enough. So sure that his little ‘problem’, wasn’t actually going to be a problem

All that had been washed away by seven years of rejection.

Hours later and Lance had circled the gym probably about a hundred times and he was really beginning to feel the toll of it. A small part of him told him just to give up already. It was obvious that he wasn’t meant to have a familiar - he just wasn’t good enough.

Another desperate part of him told him to just keep looking. They’re here. They have to be here. He just has to find them. He just had to fight for them.

He took another walk around the perimeter of the gym, searching for an available familiar that he hadn’t talked to yet. The gym had thinned out greatly over the last few hours and now there were only a couple dozen familiars left.

Just as he was about to give up for good, his eye caught on a flicker of red in the corner of the gym. He turned, focussing on the colour and saw that there was a familiar sitting in the shadows. The familiar, Lance realised, was around his age and obviously unbonded from the tag he wore. Lance didn’t recognise him from the other years that he attended the selection, meaning that he must be new to the pool.

Lance tried to fight it, but immediately a wave of hope washed through him. Could it, could it be? Was he the one that Lance had been searching for, for all these years?

Slowly, he approached the crouched familiar, his magic swelling as he came closer. He didn’t know whether it was just because of nerves, but he felt that it must be a good sign.

The familiar’s details became easier to see as he got closer. He was a fire elemental, which contrasted against Lance’s own element, but they could make it work. He had seen contrasting pairs before and they could always achieve a strong bond, they just had to work a little harder. He was also some kind of mix of cat hybrids with huge black ears and a long, tufted tail that twitched against the floor.

The familiar didn’t seem to notice Lance approaching and kept his gaze firmly locked on the ground in front of him. He was scratching his claw into the gym floor, creating an indent that would be sure to annoy Iverson later.

God what should he say- he had to get this right. This moment will be remembered for their whole-

“Who are you?” The familiar’s gruff voice sliced through his mind.

He snapped his eyes up and met the familiar’s. They were beautiful, dark, and Lance feel himself starting to get lost in them. Oh god, the familiar was hot. Mayday, Lance. SOS. Oh no, he’s staring. Say something!

“Uhhh… Hey. I’m Lance.” He tripped over his words, and his voice coming ohut choppy and almost unintelligible. The familiar lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side. His lips puckered out in confusion, and Lance melted a little. Not only was he hot, but he was adorable.

“Okay…? What do you want?” Rude. Ok, Lance was making a complete idiot out of himself, sure, but that wasn’t an excuse for all the rudeness. He was just trying to talk and maybe make a connection. The mullet boy didn’t have to be so rude about it.

Other times, Lance would have said exactly that, but he was desperate. So he swallowed up his annoyance and pride and put on a (hopefully) kind smile.

“Well…uh…I… I’m a witch, you’re a familiar. We are both unbound.”

“Oh,” he said, his voice becoming more guarded. The guy tensed and his ears flipped back. “No. I’m not looking for a bond.” He looked down at the ground again, refusing to meet Lance’s eyes.

Lance blinked, unable to come up with something to say. Inside him, his magic rolled in indignation. 

 He wasn’t expecting that.

Familiars had an even greater reason to bond than a witch. They were incarnations of wild magic, a force so fierce that it could barely be kept in physical form. Bonding with a witch helped even out their magic and kept them from going crazy with it. Unbound familiars were feral, inhuman and often so violent that they had to be put down for their own good.

At this age, the familiar’s magic _must_ be getting feral.

“How can you not be looking for a bond? You’re as old as I am.” Lance said without thinking. Internally, he groaned because he _knew_ that wasn’t the way to ask someone something so obviously personal. Him and his big, stupid mouth.

The familiar flinched Lance’s words, which made him feel a thousand times more guilty because, yeah the guy might be acting standoffish, but Lance didn’t need to pry into his business. And that sure as hell was not going to get him anywhere if he wanted the familiar to trust him.

The familiar had similar ideas and tensed his body as if he were expecting a fight. His eyes narrowed and he flexed his claws against his palms. Behind him his tail whipped madly like a snake.

“I’m not looking for a-“ he started growling, but suddenly he was cut off by another voice.

“Keith, who’s your new friend?” A warm voice broke between them and Lance turned to see a muscular familiar approaching them. He must have been the largest familiar that Lance had ever seen; the huge wings on his back made him look even bigger. Lance definitely would’ve been intimidated if it weren’t for his kind eyes and warm smile.

He stepped up and offered his hand. Lance took the hand and shook it. “My name is Shiro and I see you’ve met my brother Keith.”

Lance was about to answer, but the stubborn familiar suddenly stood up next to him and glared at Shiro.

“I know what you’re doing,” he hissed. His tail whipped behind him and his ears were flat against his head. “and I already told you I’m not going to bond with a witch.”

The two familiars stood off against each other. The unbound one, Keith apparently, looked like a startled cat, hissing with all his fur standing on end. Shiro stood calm and steady like a rock, not at all startled by the other’s reaction. In fact, he looked saddened by it.

“Keith, I’m just trying to help. You have to bond with a witch and this is the best way.” He said softly, and it only seemed to make Keith angrier

“No, Shiro,” he growled low, “I’m only here because you forced me to. The best thing for me is to not take a witch at all.”

There was silence between the two, and, then, Shiro spoke considerably slower, “You have to at least let him try.”

Keith growled again out of pure frustration. His tail whipped angrily around his legs and he ran a hand through his hair. He looked like he wanted to attack something, and Lance hoped to God it wasn’t going to be him.

“Fine,” he ground out, as if speaking the word physically hurt him, “come here, bluey.” He turned to Lance, meeting his eyes with a glare. The witch could practically see the fire behind his eyes.

Lance sputtered at the nickname, but before he could think up with a good comeback. He felt the guy’s magic brush up against his.

Immediately, all his thoughts about how annoying the mulleted familiar were wiped away by the magic. He couldn’t help but gasp and struggle to suppress a smile as he felt himself fill with something he had never felt before. He closed his eyes and focussed on the burning sensation within him.

He was warm, impossibly warm, like there was a fire inside of him. He was a crackling fireplace, a flicker of a flame on a candle, the heat when you feel when open an oven full of baking bread.

He was everything bright and burning and so impossibly warm. How had he ever lived without this warmth?

He smiled this time, because he knew that he wouldn’t have to live in a cold world again. Not with this.

Not with their bond.

He opened his eyes and turned to the familiar, expecting to see him looking just as happy. He didn’t look happy, though, he stared at Lance with wide terrified eyes.

Then suddenly, he launched into motion and punched Lance in the face.


	2. Rumours, Threats and Things Held On To

**Lance**

Lance landed with a thump as he hit the floor, his world swimming. The floor became the wall, the wall became the ceiling. His mind came to a sudden halt as pain flared up in his cheek and throbbed in his head. His magic immediately rushed to his aid, flowing through him like someone had just turned on a faucet. It focussed on the wound and eased the pain away like a cooling balm. The wound still stung, but much less than it would without his magic’s help.

But more painful than any wound was the way the warm magic within him flickered and faded, the world became cold again.

The bond was broken before it could even start to grow and distantly he heard the familiar’s footsteps as he raced away.

Lance didn’t bother moving, why would he? The only familiar that he had ever had any semblance of a connection with had practically just run away screaming. That was supposed to be his moment, his familiar, his only chance at…

No, Lance. No. Don’t think that way. There’s another way. There has to be another way. There has to be another way…

“Hey, are you okay?” Words came from somewhere above him and he blinked slowly. His mind worked at a snail’s pace, and he had a hard time placing the voice. The person asked if again, and the name clicked into place. ‘Shiro’ stood over him, his wings spreading out behind him. He must have noticed Lance’s eyes focussing on him because he leaned down, offering  him a hand.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, as he pulled Lance up, “I didn’t get your name.”

“Lance” he replied weakly, looking off in the direction he thought Keith went. His magic swelled inside him like the tide. He never thought that his magic could feel sad, but damn was his magic sad. He shivered against the air in the room.

“I’m sorry for my brother.” The familiar next to him spoke again, making Lance turn to focus on him. The large man had hung his shoulders, looking smaller than Lance had thought possible for such a big dude. His white and black-barred wings were tucked in tight and he nervously wringed his hands like he thought that Lance was going to start yelling at him.

“I promise you he’s a good guy, but Keith…” his voice trailed off and he took a glance to the door Keith left through, “he’s been through some rough stuff.”

Well, that wasn’t ominous at all. Probably why the stupid mullet was acting so angsty. The sadness inside Lance was quickly being replaced by anger. The bruise on his cheek stung and the pain from losing the potential bond turned his stomach.

“Well, he obviously doesn’t want a bond, so I guess that’s all there is to it.” Lance snapped at the familiar. He knew that he was taking his anger out on Shiro, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care.

After all, who was that guy to grab a hold of his magic and not deem it not up to par. Who exactly was that damn familiar to think himself so high and mighty that _of course he didn’t need a bond with a damn water magician_. Who was he-

“But that’s the thing” Shiro said softly, his voice was pained and it halted Lance’s anger immediately. Then again, he never was one for keeping a hold of petty anger. “I’m pretty sure he _does_ want a bond.”

Lance looked at the winged familiar, trying to judge whether the guy was messing with him or not. Was he really trying to say that the guy that had _just_ physically assaulted him actually wanted to be his bondmate? Was he blind? Or maybe he was just mean? He didn’t look like he would be that cruel, but then again, he was brothers with probably the biggest asshole Lance had ever encountered.

“Look, I know you don’t believe me.”

_Was it that obvious?_

“But please just give him another chance. Look, here, I’ll…” Shiro didn’t finish his sentence, but instead twisted, pulling at his bag. Lance watched him with a raised eyebrow as the bird fought to get the bag into the right position.

It was one of those avian bags that all the bird familiars seemed to wear. It was like a cross-body mashed with a backpack and latched under one of the wings. An avian type familiar could twist it around their body to bring it to the front and twist it behind them to keep it on their back. Lance didn’t know how in the hell they stayed in one place, but it must work somehow because all the bird familiars seemed to use them.

Shiro had twisted his to the front of his body and was rummaging through it looked for something. First, he pulled out a piece of paper and then, with a triumphant grin, a pen.

“I knew I had one,” he muttered as he began scribbling on it. “Okay, Lance, this is Keith’s number.” He handed the paper to Lance. “I know it seems like a lot now, but wait a couple days and try calling him, alright?”

Lance nodded, unsure on exactly what to say. Shiro began edging away from him and towards the direction that Keith had stormed out in. Lance stared at the number in his hands, trying not to let the small flicker of hope grow too much.

He still had a chance, though, and that was better than nothing.

He watched as Shiro made his exit towards the doors, probably trailing after his brother, and right before he could walk through them Lance spoke up.

“Hey Shiro,” the familiar’s head whipped in his direction, “why are you doing this?” Lance felt this need and he just had to ask.

 “He’s my brother,” he gave a small smile “and you don’t know this yet, he needs this bond the most” And with that, the familiar left the room, doors swinging shut behind him.

Lance looked down again at the paper in his hand. He highly doubted that Keith could need this bond more than him.

He didn’t know how long it was until Lance looked up again before turning back towards the Selection. It all seemed so hollow now that he had found- and lost- his bond; all in a span of twenty minutes. He walked back into the crowd, unsure of what to do now, but also aware that he had to keep moving. He had to keep up the act at least. He had to keep putting on a smile.

Witches and familiars were still milling about the gym, although there were definitely less than when the event had started. Most of them had seemed to have paired off at this point and were talking on the side lines of the gym. They were littered across the pulled-out bleachers, perched on them like birds on a wire. They all looked so happy, so complete in their bonds that a deep internal part of Lance ached for what was absent. The magic inside him, brushed against his cheek, promising to always be there for him.

Lance went through the motions of meeting other familiars. He said hi to them, asked them about themselves and felt their magic brush shyly against his. Despite all that, he couldn’t really remember any of the details, and every one of them made a polite excuse to get away as if sensing his discontent. Hell, they could probably read it straight off his magic.

Eventually, the Selection came to a close and people began to filter from the room. Lance sighed in relief and began searching the sides of the gym for a familiar mop of dark brown hair or a dusty coloured wing. He found them almost immediately and quickly began making his way over.

Both of them looked up as he approached and Pidge broke out into a huge grin.

“Hey sunshine, how’d it go? Did you meet the one?” she said with a lilt. Her tone was teasing, but Lance had known her for long enough to know that she was genuinely curious. It was so obvious to him how much Pidge cared and his friend’s sentiment practically melted the stress off of Lance.

 “Well, you know what I say, the familiars can’t resist me.” He smiled back, this one feeling a little more honest. The smiled quickly turned into a blush, though, as he thought about those stormy eyes and handsome curve of the familiar’s jaw. He tried to hide the blush, by tucking his head into his chest, but the red must have been blatantly obvious.

Pidge’s eyes widened and Hunk gasped as they both immediately read in between his words and his actions. “Wait, Lance, really? You bonded with someone?” Hunk practically squealed, which only made Lance blush harder.

“It was only a connection, but you know, it was the beginnings.” Lance glanced at the ground, not even trying to suppress the delicate smile that rose out of him. It was tiny, but it contained all of Lance’s hope, that maybe, just maybe…

“Oh my god, Lance that’s so great! Who is it? Can we meet them? Where are they?” Hunk grabbed him by the shoulders and was practically shaking him to death. Then, suddenly, he was looking all over the place trying to see Lance’s familiar- the one that clearly wasn’t there. Lance laughed and shoved him away.

“He’s not standing right behind me, Hunk. It’s actually more complicated than that.” His voice softened, his laugh fading away “we bonded or at least had the beginnings of a bond, but then the guy broke it off, screamed at me that he didn’t want a witch, and punched me.”

“What? You got punched?” Hunk squawked, immediately beginning to look Lance over for a bruise. His magic had taken almost all the pain away at this point and must have also taken the mark. Even so, he was still glad that his friend cared so much.

“What do you mean he said he didn’t want a witch?” Pidge asked, surprise clear on her face. All familiars had a vested interest in bonding with a witch because the bond kept their wild magic in check. Without a bond, a familiar’s wild magic would take over and they would lose themselves to it. Long story short, it wouldn’t be a very happy death.

 “I don’t know.” Lance shrugged, “He’d didn’t say before he _punched me_.”

“What was his name?”

“Keith,” he thought for a moment, “he didn’t tell me his last name. He’s some kind of cat hybrid, and apparently he’s brothers with this guy name Shiro, a bird familiar with huge ass wings.”

“Oh my god,” Pidge whispered in awe, “You bonded with Keith Kogane.”

“I didn’t fully bond with him,” Lance snapped, “we _connected._ ” Pidge and Hunk kept barrelling on, like they didn’t hear him at all.

“That must have meant that the other familiar was Takashi Shirogane.” Hunk cut with an excited nod.

“He said his name was Shiro.” Lance said with a blank look.

“Dude, he’s like famous.” Pidge said, looking at Lance incredulously. His expression didn’t change. “My god, sometimes,” she muttered to herself before looking Lance directly in the eyes, “The Iron Eagle…”

Lance’s heart almost stopped as he realised that the guy he had just been talking to was none other than his childhood hero (and kinda crush, once upon a time).

“What!” he screeched, “I made a complete fool out of myself! I can’t believe…” He looked down at the ground and suddenly remembered that he was still wearing the hideous yellow and orange outfit. Great.

And then another thought struck him. “Wait, does that mean that Keith is famous, too?”

“Well…” Hunk started to say, but then trailed off. Pidge looked at him and easily finished the thought.

“He’s more like infamous. The guy is a freaking enigma, but I’ve heard that he’s broken like five bonds.”

 Lance’s stomach fell out from under him and his magic moved like the waves of a stormy sea. _He’s broken five bonds?_ he thought to himself. He didn’t even know that was possible. Sure, he’s heard of the occasional familiar breaking a bond and forming a new one with a different witch, but to break five of them? Bonds were so personal and intimate because they were a direct connection between magics. A strong bond, one forged through time and resonance between magics, was sacred and to break something like that wasn’t a pleasant experience in the slightest for either party.

Lance thought back to the tiny, beginning of a bond that he and Keith had made about an hour ago. I hadn’t even lasted a minute. It had been so delicate and fleeting, and yet the echoes of the severance still ached within him. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to break a more developed bond, let alone go through that five times.

 _Why?_ he thought _Why would someone do that to themselves five times?_ He couldn’t even think of a viable reason and then another more selfish thought hit him like a train.

_Would he be the sixth?_

* * *

****

**Keith**

 Keith stomped through the Garrison halls, not paying attention to where he was going. What was he thinking attempting another bond with a witch? Was he crazy? Was he just so stupid that he didn’t remember the last five fucking times he make a bond?

No, that was wrong, he did remember. He remembered too well.

He still felt the spells crawling over his skin, slithering inside of him, weaving through his veins. He felt the unwanted hands touching his magic and ignoring his pleas. He felt the foreign magic wrapping around him, searching for that most vulnerable part of him and taking it. He felt his beloved magic, twisted into something unrecognisable and used against him.

Inside him his magic pulsed, warm but still weak, trying to draw him away from those thoughts.

His magic was still scarred from the last bond he had been forced to make and break, but it was slowly mending. Every time he called upon it, he could feel the way it sluggishly responded, barely brushing through him. He knew its lingering pain and thinking about it too much made him want to cry.  

It was _his_ again though, and that’s all that mattered. Like hell he was going to give it away to some witch. He needed to move one.

He shook his head, physically trying to get rid of the thoughts. He looked up, and widened his eyes when he realised where he was.

“Keith,” Shiro yelled, his voice echoing down the hallway. The familiar jerked his head to the side and saw his brother practically sprinting down the hall. Keith knew that he was rushing because he probably expected Keith to take off running. He stayed still, though and allowed Shiro to approach.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I didn’t expect to be here. I kinda just…came.” He shrugged and looked back at the door. He couldn’t help a small smile when he saw the written name: Shirogane T.

 “Well, then come on in.”

Shiro smiled and unlocked the door that they were standing in front of. The cat familiar stepped into the room and immediately felt better. It didn’t matter how it looked, what city it was in, or how small it was, whenever he was in his brother’s room he was home. After all, Shiro was the closest thing that Keith had ever had to a family.

He went to sit on the bed, his brother following after him. Shiro sat down beside him and immediately wrapped a wing around Keith. The cat leaned back into the familiar weight and idly traced a finger along one of the barred feathers.

He had always admired Shiro’s wings. They were mostly grey with white down feathers towards his body and deep black bars on his flight feathers. When spread out the could practically take up an entire room. You would think that such large wings would be a nuisance, but he always moved them masterfully, gracefully. When he was younger, he had always hoped that one day he would sprout wings like him and Shiro never had the heart to tell him that wasn’t possible.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Shiro whispered softly, drawing Keith away from his memories.  He shook his head and looked down at the feather between his fingers, unable to meet his brother’s eyes. His ears were low on his head and a lot of him just wanted to curl into Shiro and forget about the rest of this day.

“Please, Keith. Just a little?” His brother tried again.

“What’s there to say?” Usually, he would be angry at Shiro for getting him to talk, but he was tired, so tired, and had given up the fight. Plus, this was Shiro; he had seen Keith at his worse. “Both of us know that I’m not going to form another bond.”

Keith could feel the other familiar immediately tense. The warm wing behind him stiffened before it began to draw him closer into Shiro’s body. His brother rearranged himself so he could hug him from the side and Keith (though he would never admit it) melted.

“No,” Shiro said firmly, “I can’t allow that. I won’t let you go feral.”

“We might not have a choice,” Keith murmured “My magic is so broken, and, Shiro, I can’t. I can’t risk another forced bond.”

He had seen familiars go feral, watched their wild magic become too strong and take their humanity. He had seen the way they screamed through it and heard those screams become savage howls. He had also seen them brutally killed, even as their killers called it mercy.

Of course, he didn’t want that. But he also would do anything in his power not to have another forced bond.

And if that meant going feral… then at least his magic would be his own.

Shiro looked like he wanted to say more, but before he could the door to the room slammed open.

His brother immediately curled his wing tight around Keith, so much that he couldn’t see over the mass of feathers. He struggled against the limb, trying to push the thing down so he could at least see who came in.

“Takashi Shirogane, I trust that that’s Keith Kogane you’re hiding,” said a prim female voice that Keith didn’t recognise.

The other familiar lowered his wing and allowed Keith to peek out from over top of it. The girl was dressed formally in full Garrison attire, complete with the little hat that he knew Shiro hated to wear. Her eyes met his briefly and she gave him a quick nod

“Familiar Kogane,” she greeted, although it didn’t sound very warm, “Commander Iverson has ordered you into his office immediately for disciplinary action. Familiar Shirogane’s presence is requested as well.”

Keith froze, a wave of dread washing over him. Shit. He had totally forgot. He had punched that witch earlier after they had attempted a bond. He had punched him in the middle of the Garrison’s biggest event of the year.

The familiar held back a groan and got off of the bed, his brother following as they were led out of the room by the officer. She walked them through the halls, even though both of them knew where they were going. She was probably there less to be a guide and more to make sure Keith didn’t run away.

They stopped in front of Iverson’s office and the girl announced their entrance before ushering them in. Keith started to move, but before he could take a step. Shiro shoved his way in front of him and entered first. _Overprotective dick,_ he thought fondly to himself, before trailing after his brother.

Iverson sat at the wooden desk, back straight and hands crossed on the desk in front of him. His face was stone, unmoving and unsmiling, and his eyes followed Keith as he walked to one of the chairs. Keith knew that Iverson was far from his biggest fan, but he was always struck by the open hostility in his eyes tracking him like a predator hunting prey. If he was any less proud he would flinch from the gaze, but he was stubborn and met his eyes openly.

“Familiar Shirogane and Familiar Kogane,” he spoke slowly, “imagine seeing you two in my office.”

The cat familiar couldn’t help flicking his ears back at that statement, beside him Shiro bristled. God, he wished they could just go back to Shiro’s room and avoid whatever shitstorm this was going to be.

“Would you care to tell me about the events that transpired earlier during the Selection, Familiar Kogane?” Iverson said, his voice was even, but Keith could still feel the hidden malice. He slumped forward and tried appear smaller in his chair. Inside him, his magic flared, just like it always did when it perceived a threat, and he fought to quell it.

“I, um,” he stammered, “I punched someone.”

Iverson, of course wasn’t surprised about the information. “And why did you punch young Witch McClain-Rios?”

God, he hated this. He hated the way that the Commander talked to him, like he was a small child or a disobedient pet. “He tried to form a bond with me and it startled me, so I punched him.”

The Commander didn’t talk for a beat, probably to make Keith think about his actions or whatever, before slowly saying. “So what you’re telling me, familiar, is that you punched a witch because he did exactly what he was supposed to do at a Selection?”

He didn’t answer not wanting to give Iverson the satisfaction of being right. Beside him, the other familiar was practically bursting with anger, and he knew that Shiro liked the Commander’s tone about as much as he did.

“Commander Iverson,” Shiro cut in, taking Iverson’s attention off of Keith, “surely, Keith’s actions are more understandable when his previous bonds are taken into consideration.”

The man shook his head and adjusted his hands, “I’m afraid that Familiar Kogane’s past has nothing to do with the situation at hand. Especially because the Garrison has deemed him fit to bond again.”

Like hell, they thought him fit to bond again. They didn’t care what state his magic was in or how he felt about any of his bonds. At first, they saw him as valuable commodity. They called him one of the most powerful familiars they had ever seen. They were amazed by the amount of magic he carried inside and eventually they practically sold his bond to the highest bidder.

And it didn’t matter how many times those bonds failed, it didn’t matter how much his magic was twisted, it didn’t matter how many times he said “no”, they forced him to bond again and again and again.  

“I believe that Keith’s past in this scenario is entirely relevant.” Shiro snapped, and Iverson didn’t even bat an eye. He kept staring Keith down and continued like his brother hadn’t said anything at all.

“Familiar Kogane, if you find yourself unable to make a bond on your own terms, then the Garrison would be happy to send you to a sister facility and they will match you with a witch that they deem suitable.”

He froze and around him he heard his world crashing down. No. No no no no no. They couldn’t force him away. They couldn’t separate him from Shiro, his only family in the world. They couldn’t.

Could they?

“You can’t do that!” Shiro practically shouted and stood up in his chair, wings flaring behind him.

“Sit down, Familiar Shirogane,” Iverson growled. Shiro didn’t move a muscle and met Iverson’s eyes straight on. Keith could feel his brother’s magic begin to crackle in the air, ominous like a coming storm. Electricity danced across his skin and raised the hair on his arms. He could almost taste the metallic sheen of it on his tongue

Iverson didn’t look phased, in fact when he saw that the familiar wasn’t going to listen, his glared deepened. “You and I both know that what you say does not have any power in this situation. Although Familiar Kogane is under your guardianship, he is the Garrison’s ward and we have ultimate say in his fate.” The commander paused, and then spoke slowly, “and if we discover that Familiar Kogane’s guardian is unsuitable we can easily find him a new one.”

Shiro and Iverson maintained eye contact, silently challenging each other. The tension in the air was almost tangible and Keith didn’t know what to do. His brother broke first. He folded his wings back and sat back down in the chair. His hands were curled into tight fists on his lap. “A new guardian won’t be necessary.” He ground through his teeth.

“Good.” Iverson was smug, giving them a barely hidden smirk. Then he, turned and retrieved Keith’s file out of a cabinet behind him. He spread it out over the table and Keith’s history of foster homes, fights and forced bonds suddenly was laid bare in front of them. “Now, Familiar Kogane, in light of your most recent incident and your previous history of violence, the Garrison would like to transfer you to another institute in a month’s time. Assuming you will not have another bond, our sister institute will bond you with a witch.”  His eyes flicked up to meet Keith’s, “and I must inform you that this institute in known to be much less forgiving with broken bonds than the Garrison. You will be expected to stay with the witch you are given to, as well, and will be returned if found out of their custody.”

“Are you kidding me?” Shiro practically snarled, “The last witch he had kept him in a cage, what if the next one is worse? Is he just expected to go back to that hellhole?”

“I assure you that Familiar Kogane’s previous witch was just a glitch in our system and will not happen again,” Iverson said calmly.

Both Keith and Shiro bristled at that, and before his brother could say anything else, Keith finally spoke. “And what about the other four witches before that who all forced a fucking bond on me?” he growled, nearly hissing. None of it seemed to phase the man across the desk.

“Kogane, if you refuse to bond with a witch yourself then an institute will find a bond for you. You are simply too powerful of a familiar to let go unbound. Thank you for coming and you may leave now.” 

Neither Keith nor Shiro wanted to stay in that office any longer than they had to, practically running out of the door at the dismissal. They somehow silently agreed to go back to Shiro’s room, not speaking the entire way there.

When they got to the room, his brother practically shoved Keith on the bed and wrapped a blanket across his shoulders. He crossed the room, and grabbed two mugs from a cabinet and silently made some instant ramen. The routine was familiar to Keith- they did the same thing every time Keith came back from a forced bond- and the familiarity helped ease the panic swirling inside his head.

Shiro came back with the food and they ate in silence, before Shiro decided to break it.

“We’ll figure something out,” he murmured, “We always have.”

Keith didn’t know what to say to that, not willing to agree, but too scared to disagree. Instead he asked, “Can I stay here tonight?”

“Of course.”

They went through another familiar routine, though this one was much less somber. Shiro pulled out a bedroll that he kept in his room especially for Keith, and a couple extra blankets. He set it up in the middle of the room and Keith silently fetched the pillows his brother stashed for him. When the bed was made, Keith slipped in, feeling like he was ten years old again long before any of the bad stuff had ever happened. Back when neither of them were bonded and Shiro had just started taking Keith under his wing. Those were the happiest days of his life.

“Good night, Shiro,” Keith whispered into the open air. Inside him, his magic circled comfortably like a cat curling up before a fireplace. He felt safe here, even though he knew he was living on borrowed time. But here, now, in this room, with his brother snoring softly near him, he could fool himself into thinking that everything was alright, everything was fine, everything would be okay.

But would it? Would it really? When Keith thought about his future all he saw was death, either by the hand of a cruel witch or by his own feral magic. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t, but what choice did he have? He couldn’t make a bond on his own or…

He thought back to the bond he had made with that blue witch. It had happened only hours ago, even though it seemed like a lifetime ago. The tiny, glimmer of a bond that hadn’t felt anything like the forced bonds that he had been subjected to. It wasn’t invasive. It didn’t twist his magic. It didn’t hurt him at all.

No, it had flickered alive the hope that Keith had long thought was dead. Because maybe, just maybe…

Sleep was taking him now and he settled further into the blankets. All his muscles went slack and a deep exhaustion descended inside his bones. The events from the day had begun to slowly wash away, but right before he could fall completely asleep, his phone chimed.

He cracked an eye open and look at the screen. The phone was lit up with a text message from a number he didn’t recognise. Slowly, he reached over and picked up the phone, bringing it to his face to read.

**From: (378) 104-6842**

**(12:18 am)**

_heyyy_

_its Lance the witch from before_

_we bonded a little bit_

_I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to grab dinner sometimes_

_its ok if you dont but i thought maybe we could try the bond thing again_

_its probably too late for you to be reading any of this but let me know_

 

**To: (378) 104-6842**

**(12:32 am)**

_Sure._

 

Keith was suddenly wide awake, clutching his phone to his chest as he felt his heart beat wildly. He didn’t know why he agreed, or why thinking about that blue witch with the crooked smile made his heart flutter, but maybe, just maybe…

Maybe it was something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my two wonderful betas, Cyan and Zo. You guys rock and always manage to catch my mistakes. Thanks, also to everyone who has followed this story! Your support means the world to me! Please consider leaving a kudos and comment!!
> 
> Can't get enough of this story and want to know exactly how far along I am? Come check out my tumblr at salparadiselost to get chapter previews, updates on how much I've written and my ramblings.


	3. The Magic in Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And y'all thought bad things only happened to Keith...

**Lance**

The drive back to the his and Hunks’ rented house was just as silent as the drive to the Garrison. Hunk sat in the front seat, eyes on the road but lost in thought. Pidge was cooped up in the back seat, her wings drawn in tight and trying to crack jokes with Lance to cheer him up. Lance feebly smiled at her attempts, but he couldn’t get his mind off what had been a disaster of a Selection.

It figured that he would manage to resonate with probably the most infamous familiar in all of the Garrison. After they worked out who Lance’s mystery man was, Pidge and Hunk had told him story after story about the apparent violent streak that Keith Kogane had. Rumours that Lance had heard in passing turned out to be about the only familiar he had ever connected to’s obvious hostility towards witches and his attacks on other students.

Long story short, Lance didn’t think that his chances of getting a familiar were looking good.

But for all the horror stories he had heard, he had a hard time connecting them to the warm magic that he had felt brush up against his and the tiny broken hope captured within it.

The only thing that he was certain of at this point was that there was more to Keith Kogane than he knew. He was simultaneously scared and excited to find out what that hidden thing was.

The car stopped with a jolt that brought Lance out of his own thoughts. He looked up and saw their familiar white house and puke-green window shutters. He and Hunk had always promised themselves that they would paint them a different colour, but still had never gotten around to it. Now Lance thought there was something oddly comforting in the colour and how it helped distinguish their house from the ones surrounding it.

They all got out of the car, and Pidge immediately spread her wings with a relieved sigh before going inside. It was getting dark and the dusky purples of the sunset were fading into midnight blue.

Lance followed Pidge inside, absently watching her feathers rustle with her steps. He could tell that they were out of order by the way that her wings were minutely twitching. She would have to get either Hunk or Lance to groom them before the night was out.

“Hey guys,” Hunk drew both their attentions suddenly, “I’m just going to order food from that Thai place. Both of you want the usual?” he asked. Both of them nodded in response.

Before either Hunk or Pidge could draw him into another activity, Lance began heading up the stairs to his room.

“Hey, Lance,” Pidge chirped, stopping Lance in his tracks, “you’re okay, right?” He looked back and saw both the familiar and Hunk staring at him with worried eyes. He slumped at their pitying looks and tried to put on a convincing smile, even though he knew both of them would be able to see right through it. He looked down when their gazes didn’t waver.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He paused for a moment and then glanced up again, “I’m just gonna take some time to myself. Call me when dinner is here.” He turned around, not leaving any room for argument. He practically sprinted up the rest of the stairs.

When he got to his room, he closed the door, resting his hand on the lock. He paused, but debating with himself, before deciding to click the lock shut. The sound rang in Lance’s ears, and he gave an exhausted sigh.

He swivelled around and looked at the rest of the room. Knick-knacks were spread across every available flat surface and cluttered the shelves. There were Christmas lights draped across the ceiling and pictures hung crookedly on the wall. The glass in front of them glinted in the twinkling of the fairy lights. It was still a mess from when Lance ransacked his closet this morning, and dirty clothes were thrown across the floor.

Then again, if Lance admitted it to himself, the place was always a mess, although, Lance liked to call it “organised chaos”.

With a deep breath, Lance began to pick up the dirty clothes on the floor and began to place them in the hamper. He _really_ had to do a load of laundry he had been putting off, he thought idly as he shucked off his day clothes. He put on a pair of pyjamas shorts before beginning to look for a sleep shirt. As he looked for the shirt, his eyes caught on the mirror and he couldn’t help staring at the tattoo that spread over his heart.

He stopped his search, and slowly walked up to the mirror. His eyes didn’t leave the tattoo on his chest and as he got closer the details became clear.

It was shaped like a clock, only it was formed out of thorny vines. They curled over his skin and twisted on each other to make the clock’s shape. The clock only had one hand, which was pointed a little past the eleven o’clock hour. If you looked close enough, you could see that the black edges of the ink swirled and moved along each other. Because it wasn’t ink and the shape on his chest wasn’t a tattoo.

It was a curse and the ink was dark magic imprinted on to his skin.

The clock wasn’t a clock. It was a timer, constantly ticking down, and when it reached twelve, the magic would finish twisting around his heart, stopping its rhythmic beat of life.

And Lance would die.

His stomach turned when he looked at the curse again, sending a chill down his spine. He had lived with it all his life and it still scared him when he looked at it for too long. What would his life be if he didn’t have it imprinted on his skin? How would he act if he didn’t have its dark shadow looming over him all the time? Would he be a different person?

Questions like those had plagued him for as long as he had the curse. They coloured almost everything he did because how he could ever forget how he was living on borrowed time…

**Before**

“Leoncito! Leoncito! Come on, hurry up, you move like a snail!” his little sister squealed as she shot through the mangroves in front of them. Her little hands and feet clasped the spindly branches of the mangrove roots, the round leaves brushing up against her face. Below her, the brackish water swirled slowly and little glints of fish flashed.

Lance laughed and jumped to the next tree, grabbing onto the branches. The bark bit against the bottom of his feet, as both him and his sister had ditched their shoes long ago. The roots swayed under him and water splashed up against his legs. Inside him, the little inkling of his newly fledged magic lapped against him playfully.

Rosita kept going forward, leaping between trees branches like a monkey. Both of them had been playing in these trees for as long as they could remember and  this path was as familiar as the back of their hands as. Lance had never felt more at home in another place.

Eventually, the trees began to thin out and gave way to a small strip of beach against an inland cove. The McClain-Rios clan proudly called it their family beach, even though the patch was more like a sand bar and was easily eaten up by the tide for a portion of the day. Lance’s family would often have meals there, though, and hosted small gatherings by the ocean side (although his parents took the easy route to get there, which involved a lot less tree jumping and was decidedly not as fun).

The beach was also home to hundreds of fiddler crabs, which scurried across the beach and dug tiny holes into the sand for homes. Catching them before they could make it underground was a favourite summer pastime for the McClain-Rios kids and was why Lance and Rosita were there now.

“Come on, Lance” Rosita whined already getting out the buckets she had stuffed into her backpack. “All the good crabs are going to be gone.”

Lance smiled and joined her on the beach. Immediately they took off, running in different directions like chickens with their heads cut off. All the crabs on the beach scurried madly towards their holes, none too keen on to getting caught by either a ten- or  eight-year-old. Lance and Rosita both shrieked in joy as they chased the little crabs (though once Lance screamed in surprise when one actually managed to pinch him).

In the end, they only managed to catch five crabs between the both of them. Lance argued that the one that had pinched him counted as a sixth, but Rosita stubbornly insisted that it didn’t. It didn’t matter anyway, because his sister had caught four crabs and Lance had only caught one (maybe two). In the end, they ended up sitting on the beach, watching the snow-white egrets and great blue herons fly between the trees, and calling to each other across the water.

“Hey Leoncito,” Rosita piped up, looking at Lance with wide innocent eyes, “can you do the magic thing?”

Lance smiled and nodded eager to show off his budding power. All witch-borne people began to feel their powers around the age of ten years old and the McClain-Rios were no different. Their family had a long line of powerful water magicians, and Lance seemed to be the next in line. His magic had just begun to stir in him, bubbling up like a small spring. Feeling it brush against his skin constantly made him want to laugh, and even though he had only had it for a few days, he knew he would cherish it.

“Okay, Rosa, but only a little. I’m still learning.” He stood up and beside him his little sister cheered, watching eagerly as he began to pull water from the ocean. It rose to his fingers like an obedient pet and inside him magic hummed, happy to be of use. Under his breath, he spoke the words that helped him control his magic, especially as he was still learning.

He prompted the water to twirl around him and his sister, brushing against her cheek when it passed her. She giggled at it and tried to pet it but her hand went straight through. He brought it back in front of him and began to try to shape it into something more difficult.

The water, though, didn’t listen as he wanted it to, and frustration began to leak into his magic. He focussed on trying to get it into a shape, and didn’t notice that he was drawing in storm clouds, or the sky was getting darker.

“Lance,” his sister’s voice was quiet and tinged with fear. He ignored her, focussed on the push and pulls of his magic. “Lance, the clouds,” she insisted, and finally getting his attention.

His eyes widened when he saw what he had done, and a small bit of fear settled into his stomach. “Don’t worry, I can fix it,” he said quickly, his mind scrambling to grasp the words he needed. He spoked them slowly, the Latin unfamiliar on his tongue. It began to rain, and he spoke them more quickly, not noticing the binding feeling on his chest.

Then all of a sudden, he couldn’t breathe and he fell onto the sand like a puppet with its strings cut. He fought for breath, scratching at the invisible force on his chest that kept him from drawing in air. Distantly, he heard his sister scream and yell his name, but he couldn’t do anything except struggle against the dark magic. The force tightened its hold on him, the sensation grew too much, and Lance’s world was plunged into darkness.

 

**Now**

The curse had been a mistake, a fluke, a one in a million chance of happening. A simple mispronunciation of words in the exact right order to produce a spell that would eventually kill him.

The worst part was he knew how to reverse the spell. He recited the words to himself every night before he fell asleep. They were spoken like a prayer to a false god- broken, desperate and ultimately into the void.

Because the spell wouldn’t work with his magic alone. He needed a familiar.

When he was younger, he had thought that getting a familiar would be no problem at all. He never worried about the curse, so sure that it would be easily reversible. Because even though he knew he wasn’t the smartest, the funniest or the most talented, he still thought he wasn’t a terrible match. Time had proved him wrong however, and here he was, almost eight years later with no familiar to speak of.

Long story short, he was getting desperate, and if he thought about it too much, he wanted to break into tears. 

Keith was his last hope because he was the _only_ familiar that Lance had ever had any connection with. The familiar didn’t know it, but he held Lance’s life in the palm of his hand and Lance would do anything in his power to not let him crush it.

If that little spark of a bond was anything to go by, Lance still had a chance. He just had to be careful, play his cards right and hope to whoever was above that he wouldn’t fuck it up. _I can do it…No, I will do it,_ he thought to himself as he opened up his phone and typed in the unfamiliar number that Shiro had given him.

**To: (378) 294-4845**

**(12:18 am)**

_heyyy_

_its Lance the witch from before_

_we bonded a little bit_

_I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to grab dinner sometimes_

_its ok if you dont but i thought maybe we could try the bond thing again_

_its probably too late for you to be reading any of this but let me know_

 

Lance stopped typing and stared at the word vomit that he had just spewed all over his phone. _Dammit, dammit, dammit,_ he thought to himself and he smacked the phone against his forehead with every curse. Now his familiar was going to think he was a needy idiot, and he would hate him forever, and they would never bond, and he wouldn’t ever get to see those beau-

Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his hands and Lance scrambled not to drop it on the bed.

**From: (378) 294-4845**

**(12:32 am)**

_Sure._

* * *

 

**Keith**

The true reality of the situation didn’t strike Keith until he woke up the next morning. He blinked awake with the rise of the sun, the beams catching against his eyes and drawing him from slumber. He hummed into the pillow debating whether to fall back to sleep or not. He heard Shiro in the kitchen, though, and knew that his chances of going back to sleep were slim to none.

He yawned, stretched and began to wipe the sleep from his eyes. He looked around, seeing his phone laying innocently next to his bed.

And then it hit him- he had agreed to go on a date with Lance last night.

He let out a little shriek (though he would never admit that he ever made a noise that high pitched) and frantically unlocked the phone to see whether he had just dreamed it.

Sure enough, the evidence was saved in his text messages.

 _No, Keith, no. Why did you do that? You literally punched the guy yesterday!_ He nervously ran his hands through his hair and inside him his magic flared. He got the distinct feeling that it was laughing at him. _Oh, shut up,_ he thought to it and sent back the feeling of annoyance, which only made the magic flare up more.

Then a pair of blue eyes flashed in his mind and he begged himself not to think of that. Because even though the guy was a blue witch and even though beginning a bond with him had scared the hell out of Keith, he had been attractive, having sent butterflies straight into his stomach.

Oh god, he had agreed to go on a date with him, hadn’t he? Or was it a date? Keith fumbled for his phone and quickly read over the text messages again. Maybe it was? He couldn’t tell. He could have just agreed to a potential bond dinner thing? Dammit, he didn’t know which was worse.

He groaned loudly, leaning forward until he smacked his head down on the bed. He didn’t move, even as he heard the door creak open and his brother come in.

“Keith?” he asked, his voice full of concerned confusion. “What’s going on?”

“I think I might be going on a date with that blue witch, but I don’t know and I don’t like it.” He mumbled into the bed, the blankets muffling his words.

“What?”

Keith growled and drew back up. He shot a glare at Shiro and his tail whipped around behind him. “I said,” he snapped, “I think I might be going on a date with that blue witch, but I don’t know and I don’t like it.” Then he flopped forward again, hoping that maybe he would just spontaneously combust.

There was a long pause before Shiro spoke again. “wait, what?”

Keith sat up again, this time turning his whole body towards Shiro, and took a breath in, before practically yelling. “I think I might be-“

“No, no.” Shiro firmly cut him off and Keith’s jaw snapped shut. “I got that part, but I don’t understand it.”

“That’s the _problem”_ Keith groaned and held his head in his hands. “I don’t know if it’s a date or if it’s a getting to know you type thing.”

Shiro crossed his arms, leaning on the doorframe as he  looked down at Keith. He had his thinking face on and Keith could practically see the gears turning in his head. “When did all this happen?” he asked innocently.

“Last night,” Keith said and he waved his phone in front of him like it held all the answers, “he texted me and asked me and stupidly I said yes and I- wait why are you looking at me like that?” he narrowed his eyes and glared at Shiro’s suspicious grin.

His brother didn’t look nearly as concerned as he was, and he could see the damn bird trying to hold back laughter. At Keith’s glare, he tried to swallow it down and waved his hands innocently. For some reason, it just made him glare harder.

“It’s nothing, Keith,” he chuckled, “it’s just…” and he paused, his smile becoming softer, “it’s been a while since I’ve seen you act your age. It’s nice.”

Keith looked down, unsure of what to say, unsure that there _was_ something to say. He tried not to think about what he had lost- there was no use crying over spilled milk.

“Well I don’t like it,” he snapped suudenly,“I want to go back to not acting my age.” He grumbled, his ears low on his head.

“No, I like this,” Shiro laughed with a wave of his hand, “Regular Keith wears too much black and pouts too much.”

“I don’t pout.” Keith said with a… definitely not-pout.

His brother shook his head. “Ok then, come on. Get up, breakfast is ready.”

Almost on cue, Keith’s stomach rumbled, cutting off any argument he might have had, and he rose from the bed. The air was cool around him and he shivered against it. His brother stood in the doorway and opened a wing when he got closer.

Keith let himself be taken under it, the limb falling across his shoulders like a warm blanket. In a rare show of affection, he lifted his head and nuzzled his cheek against Shiro’s chest. His brother reached up and gently pet his ears. Inside him, his magic practically purred at the soft touch.

“Someone being a nice kitty, today?” He teased and Keith laughed, but didn’t pull away. He gave him a soft smack in the side, which his brother just laughed off.

“Shut up, featherbrain, it’s only because you promised to feed me.”

“Spoken like a true cat,” Shiro mumbled to himself, before stepping away to begin plating breakfast. Keith stepped around him, grabbing utensils for both of them, and hopped up on one of the barstools. When Shiro was finished he joined him, and together they ate in silence. Well, that is… until Shiro broke it.

“So,” he drawled, probably thinking he was being smooth, “you’re going on a date?”

“No.” Keith said immediately, out of instinct, but then he gave in a little, “I don’t know. It could be, but it also could be a ‘getting to know you, so we can bond’ type of thing. Doesn’t matter, the thought of either is kinda freaking me out” He hunched over his breakfast and played with his eggs.

Beside him Shiro hummed in thought. “Then why did you agree to go?”

Why did he? Moment of weakness? Lapse in judgement? His reason was blinded by a pair of pretty eyes and a bright smile? – all those were reasons that he told himself, but if he really thought about it, he couldn’t get his mind off of their inkling of a bond.

It had been nothing like he had ever felt before. Small and delicate, nothing like the binding, suffocating bonds of the other witches. Where their bonds had taken something from him, the blue witch’s gave. It washed over him like water and calmed that deep furious part of him that would eventually turn feral. It cleaned him, comforted him, and soothed the raw hurt that had built up over the years.

He knew that what he had with the witch wasn’t a bond, but it could be- and that scared the hell out of him.

But it had to be better than turning feral or being taken away from Shiro and into another forced bond.

Shiro coughed and Keith realised that he was still waiting on an answer.

“I don’t really know why,” he admitted carefully, “but when we connected it felt like something...” he paused, “something I couldn’t just give up.”

He heard his brother shift beside him, and he put an arm around his shoulders. “I’m proud of you. What you’re doing is brave, especially given your past.”

“It doesn’t feel brave.” Keith mumbled, and Shiro tightened his arm.

“I know it doesn’t now, but it is. Always remember patience yields focus.”

Keith nodded and Shiro took his arm back, so that they both could start eating again. A comfortable silence fell over the kitchen again, only broken by the gentle clinking of their utensils on the plates. When they were finished, Keith collected the plates and turned back towards his brother.

He startled when he saw that Shiro had a tiny, shit-eating smirk. “Hey Keith,” he purred and the other familiar took a step back watching him warily. “Your nerves have nothing to do with that blue witch’s looks, does it?” His smirk became a full grin as Keith tensed and Keith could have strangled him right then and there.

Knowing that homicide was never a good option, though, he desperately looked away, trying to hide the blush he could feel creeping up his neck. Shiro was all out laughing at him now, and he started to look for an escape route.

“I’m going to go train.” He sputtered out as he shot for the door like a bat out of hell. Right before he left, he grabbed his duffel bad that had his gym clothes in it and almost dropping it in his haste.  His brother laughed harder, before stopping to yell “Remember, Allura is coming over later”.

The cat familiar waved to show that he had heard and walked out the door, heading to the training deck. When he got there, he was pleasantly surprised to see that it was empty. Usually, there would be a witch-familiar pair training in one corner or a couple of loners working on their magic. It was rare that Keith got the whole place to himself, and he was glad that now he would be able to use the entire room. He changed quickly and walked out onto the open wood floor.

He stepped over to the wall and switched the lights off, plunging the gym into darkness. Immediately, his natural night vision kicked in, bringing objects into view even though they were tinged in darkness. Despite that, though he could still move confidently in the space and went to the middle of the room. If he was ever here by himself, he always liked to train in the dark because it helped him see the fire he created and track its movements as he commanded them.

He stepped into the circle painted on the ground and called up his magic. It eagerly met his call and flickered inside of him. He could easily tell that it still had scars, but its movement was improving, which assured him that it was healing. He gently nudged it to the surface and slowly a fire kindled in his palm.

He practiced that skill for a while- drawing the magic into a flame and extinguishing it with a word. Transferring magic into a physical form was one of the most basic exercises both witches and familiars could master, and the form the magic took depended on which element the wielder most aligned with. The most common forms were water, fire, earth and air, although rarer versions and combinations existed.

Keith was a fire familiar, and proud to be one. His flames tickled against his skin and brushed between his fingers. They never hurt him (being fireproof was one of the benefits of being a fire familiar), and instead he only felt an increase of warmth against his skin. Where fire burned other people, it wrapped around him like a comfortable blanket and he felt completely at home in his element.

He whispered words of magic and brought the fire into the air to dance around him. Inside him, his magic crackled like a fireplace growing in strength and rising to the challenge of his wishes. If his magic had been at full strength, he could do an exercise like this in a blink of an eye.

God, it had been so long since he had felt his magic fully healed.

He shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the magic before him instead of what he had lost. Even broken as it was, being able to control his magic lit a fire within him and made him what to laugh in joy.

Because it showed that none of those bastards could fucking break him.

His magic roared in delight to mirror the emotions that were bubbling up inside him and Keith let out a laugh. The fire in the air grew and began whipping around him like a storm. It must have looked like chaos, but Keith rejoiced in it and his heart soared with he felt the flames lick against his cheek.

The moment was broken with the lights flipped on, startling Keith out of his trance.

“Keith, what are you doing playing with fire in the dark?” Allura scolded affectionately as she stepped into the gym.

Keith quelled the flames around him and smiled at her entrance. “Allura,” he greeted, and took the heat from the room so she could comfortably walk up. “I thought my brother said you were coming later?”

She laughed and flicked him in the forehead. “It is later silly. You’ve been out here for hours. Did you not notice the time?”

The familiar shook his head. He got so caught up in the flames he didn’t notice the hours fly by. The witch only rolled her eyes in response before her expression became more serious.

“Keith, how are you?” she asked, her voice full of concern.

He ducked his head, unable to meet her eyes. A small, fearful part of him told him to run, but he shook that off. After all, this was Allura, the only witch he had ever trusted, she was like a sister to him.

“I don’t know” he admitted, his ears low on his head and his tail curling between his legs. “Shiro told you about what Iverson said, yeah?” He flicked his eyes up.

“Yes, he did.” Her voice rang with hidden anger, “and there is no way, that Shiro and I are going to allow it.”

He smiled a hollow smile, not able to and couldn’t keep the doubt out of his words. “I don’t know if we have a choice, Allura.”

“We always have a choice, even when it seems like there’s none there.” She said so firmly it made Keith jerk his head up, meeting her eyes. “Anyways, there’s still hope. I heard you had a connection with a blue witch you met at the Selection.”

Keith chuckled darkly, “Did Shiro leave out the part where I punched him?”

She gave him a playful scowl, “No,” she snapped with no true anger “and we will be talking about that, of course. Keith don’t lose hope- this could be the start of something wonderful for you.”

He looked down again and rubbed his arm. He couldn’t help it- every time he thought about having a bond again all he could imagine was the painful process of having bonds forced on him and having them broken. “I don’t know” he whispered almost too quiet for the witch to hear, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to willingly make a bond.”

The witch looked at him for a long time before she smiled affectionately at him. “Come on, Keith,” she said gently as she gestured to the door, “Shiro and I have something we want to show you.”

Her voice didn’t leave any room for argument, so Keith went to retrieve his duffel bag and began to follow the witch out the doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you guys liked this chapter. Originally, I had it set to go out Sunday, but I figured y'all wouldn't mind it a bit early. Please consider leaving a comment and a kudos because they really help motivate me and make me smile.  
> Want to know when the next chapter is planned for or exactly how much of the story is written? Check out my tumblr @salparadiselost and bother on there!
> 
> Thanks again and see you next week,  
> Kay


	4. Basically a Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks for checking back in and I hope you're excited for this next chapter! Thank you for all the wonderful support- you guys keep me writing! A huge, overwhelming thank you to my betas, Cyan and Zo who clean up this story and make it better for you wonderful readers!
> 
> Now go on and get reading!

**Keith**

Keith followed Allura into the hallway and back to Shiro’s room. He had no idea what they had to show him, and that thought twisted his stomach, making him feel like he was a child who had just gotten in trouble.

What was it now? Was it because he was practicing his magic in the dark? Shiro did always yell at him for that because he said it would hurt his eyes (which Keith didn’t believe at all). Or was it something else? Did he leave his dirty clothes in the sink again?

“Keith,” Allura’s voice interrupted his stream of ‘things that I might have done’ “You’re not in trouble. I can see you trying to figure out what you did, but I promise we just want to show you something.”

“It stills sounds ominous when you say it like that.” He muttered under his breath. Allura must have heard him though since she rolled her eyes and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“Just trust me, Keith. Have I ever steered you wrong?” she said, like trusting her was the easiest thing in the world. He wanted it to be, too, but the very fact that she was a witch sent shivers up his spine and made him think about cages and collars. Allura was right, though. She had always given Keith good advice, she had never hurt him and she cared about him in a way that even rivalled Shiro.

“No, you haven’t,” he agreed, looking her in the eyes. She met his gaze and smiled affectionately at him, before grabbing his hand to pull him forward.

“Well, come on, slowpoke, Shiro’s waiting for us.”

Keith laughed and quickened his pace, following the witch until they stopped in front of Shiro’s room. Allura didn’t even bother knocking before opening the door and announcing that they were here. Shiro popped his head up from where he was in the kitchen and grinned when he saw them.

“I see you tracked him down.” he said, pulling away from the sandwiches he was making on the counter. Keith didn’t even realise that it was lunch time.

Allura nodded. “I found him exactly where you said he was going to be.  He was practicing magic in the dark again.”

Shiro sighed heavily and hung his head. “He has a habit of doing that even though I always tell him not to. At this rate, he’s going to be blind before he’s thirty.” He looked up at Allura, completely ignoring the reddening Keith.

“I am not,” Keith sputtered, “I have fucking night vision.”

“And he curses _so_ much,” Shiro said to Allura, still ignoring his brother, “It physically hurts me every time.” He clutched his chest dramatically and skewed his face in false pain. The witch nodded in sympathy and shook her head too.

“Can you guys stop talking about me like I’m not here?” he practically hissed and his asshole of a brother finally looked his way.

“Oh Keith,” he gasped like he was surprised, “I didn’t see you there.”

“Like hell you didn’t, feathers,” Keith scoffed, his ears flat on his head in annoyance. His brother scowled and chastised him for his language, as if he were nine years old. Allura, the traitor only giggled at their antics. He was beginning to take back all those nice things he had thought about her earlier.

“Boys, boys,” she cut in before they could really start bickering, “please, let’s not fight”

“He started it,” Keith muttered, and Shiro glared at him like he had been betrayed. He opened his mouth to snap something back, but before he could get anything out, Allura stopped him with a look.

He sheepishly looked away, and Keith smirked. Shiro shot him a glare, before his face morphed into an evil, shit eating grin that sent panic straight into Keith’s gut.

“So, Keith,” he purred, “are you still worried over your little date with the water witch? Still panicking about getting lost in his- “

Keith leapt at the other familiar, trying to shove his hand over his mouth to stop him from spewing those lies. Shiro laughed like it was the funniest damn thing in the world and fought back easily. Damn his brother for having two extra limbs.

The damage was done, though. Allura couldn’t have _not_ heard.

“ _Oh_ Keith,” she called sweetly from the other side of the kitchen. He immediately froze at the sound of her voice and felt the fur on his tail begin to raise. “What’s this I hear about a date?”

“You fucking traitor,” he hissed under his breath to his brother.

“Language,” he chirped, before practically shoving Keith in Allura’s direction.

He stumbled towards her and immediately looked down when he came to a stop. He caught his bottlebrush tail in his hands and nervously began trying to calm down the poofy fur.

“Keith, explain.” she insisted.

“It’s kinda not a date,” he spoke almost too quickly for Allura to follow, “I don’t know. He texted me last night and I said yes and I don’t know what to do.”

“Could I see the texts, please?” she asked, stretching out a perfectly manicured hand. He slowly stepped up and placed his phone in her hand before backing up again. He watched her scan over the text messages and a huge grin broke out on her face.

“Keith!” she gasped and grabbed both of his shoulders, practically shaking the life out of him “You’re _so_ going on a date.” she squealed and he flicked his ears back at the high-pitched noise.

“I am?” he squeaked and suddenly felt a wave of anxiety rise up. A date? What was he supposed to do with a date? At a date? And with a witch? (Not to mention the fact that the witch was freaking hot).

“No, I’m not,” he insisted suddenly, “I’m not going.” He broke from Allura’s hold, turning away.

“What?” the witch screeched and the familiar turned back towards her. “Of course, you’re going.”

“No, I’m not,” he said petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Allura shifted towards Shiro and flicked her eyes between him and Keith. “Shiro, talk some sense into him.”

The bird familiar sighed. “Keith, you have to go you already agreed to go.”

“I can just say something came up.”

“No, you have to. You punched the poor kid. You have to at least go to say you’re sorry.” Shiro’s eyes softened and he gave Keith a small smile. “And what happened to that little connection that you thought might be something?”

Keith couldn’t help a small smile when he thought about the possible connection between him and the blue witch. He wanted to believe that it was real. He really, really did, but how could he jump into another bond when all the bonds he had ever had were so painful?

“I don’t know.” He couldn’t help a small flinch when he heard how scared his own voice was. “What if he tries to force a bond on me?”

“Actually, Keith,” Allura cut in to the conversation, “that’s actually what Shiro and I wanted to talk to you about.

“I thought you said you had something to show me,” the cat familiar said warily, glancing between the witch and bird familiar.

“We do,” Shiro agreed gently, drawing Keith’s attention, “but it’s tied to what we wanted to talk to you about.”

“Shiro and I have been talking over something that involve you, Keith.” the witch explained and Keith glared at both of them.

“You guys talk about me behind my back?”

“Of course we do,” his brother said with a shrug of his wings, “ee both want to give you the best life possible. We’re both on your side, Keith, of course we talk about how to help you.”

Keith looked down sheepishly, all the previous anger gone. Guilt rose up in his stomach when he thought about Allura and Shiro worrying about him when he wasn’t there. Of course they saw him as a problem they needed to fix. He was fucking broken enough.

“Keith, no,” Allura’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I don’t like it.”  she paused, looking deep into his eyes in a way that made him want to hide, “You’re worth it Keith, I know that sometimes it doesn’t seem like that, but you are and you deserve a bond.”

“But what if-” he started before Allura put a finger to his lips to silence him.

“No.” she said gently and turned away, apparently moving on to a different topic. “Shiro and I have been talking and both of us believe that you have a very skewed sense of what a bond actually is. It’s not your fault, of course, you have only had bonds forced upon you. But a true bond…” she trailed off and smiled at Shiro “A true bond is amazing and we want to show one to you.”

Keith froze. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He looked wildly between Shiro and Allura, trying to figure out if they were messing with him or not. A bond was an incrediblely intimate connection between a familiar and a witch. It directly connected their magics- relaxing the wild magic within familiars and amplifying the subtler magic within witches. To be invited to experience another pair’s witch-familiar bond was unheard of and an honour that Keith couldn’t believe he was getting.

“Allura, Shiro, you don’t have to do this.” He sputtered, still shocked.

“We want to do this.” He brother insisted, carefully edging a wing towards him. Keith stepped within its reach and felt the limb gently lead him towards the bedroom. The witch followed behind.

“Allura and I already have the spell set up.” Shiro said, gesturing towards the white glyphs that were chalked on to the wooden floor. “All you need to do is stand here.” The bird familiar pushed him smack dab in to the middle of the chalk circle. “And wait.”

Keith silently watched as Shiro stepped in front of him and Allura came up behind him. He shifted uncomfortably at the strange set up, and nervously picked at his claws. He stiffened when they held each other’s hands, their arms forming a sort of circle around Keith.

“Now close your eyes,” the witch instructed and Keith obeyed, “and try to focus away from your own magic. Direct yourself outwards, rather than inwards and be open to the magics around you.”

Keith nodded and the witch familiar pair both began chanting. It was slow, gentle and under their breaths. If Keith wasn’t listening so closely he wouldn’t have even heard them at all.

He evened his breath and felt his own magic swirling but ignored it to focus outward. He opened himself to feeling that world’s magic- the tender breath of the earth, the silent song of the wind, the quiet roar of nature’s own wild magic.

He was so focussed on the world’s external magic that he almost missed the entrance of Shiro’s and Allura’s bond. It rose up slowly and felt like a subtle change in the weather. Keith couldn’t help but gasp when it came fully into realisation. It was the taste of rain on your tongue and the ferocious roar of a thunderstorm. It was a summer shower and a hurricane all at once. It was the way that rain seems to wash away your troubles and cleanse the earth. It was darkness and light in perfect balance. And Keith didn’t know how, but he could feel the way it cared.

The raw affection within it blew him away and almost made him tear up. He could feel Shiro and Allura’s affections towards each other, the trust that built their bond and what they were willing to give for each other. He could also feel they way that they cared for _him._ He experienced both of their fondness towards him- Shiro’s brotherly love and Allura’s sisterly affections. He saw the worry too, the fears that they would lose him or that he would end up hurt. He knew Allura’s self-hatred of being a witch, the symbol of his hurt. He felt Shiro’s anxiety that he was failing as a big brother. 

“Keith,” A voice startled the familiar out of his reverie and he snapped his eyes open. The feeling of the bond immediately washed away as he met his brother’s eyes. The other familiar smiled.

“How was it?” he asked. Keith smiled back and lunged forward for a hug. His brother caught him easy, even though he let out a surprised ‘oof’ and squeezed him tight.

“It was…” he searched for the right word to even begin describing it, “amazing.” He settled on finally, resting his head on Shiro’s shoulder.

“Shiro, you’re…” he struggling for words again, “you’re my family. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Don’t ever doubt that.”

“And you’re the best thing to happen to me.” Shiro whispered into his ear, while squeezing him tighter.

“Don’t forget about me.” Allura cut in as Keith felt another pair of arms wrap around him tightly. He turned his head and nuzzled against her. She giggled and Keith’s nose twitched as her hair tickled against his face.

Keith fought against the tears and sniffled. He couldn’t believe that they cared so much about him or how beautiful their bond was. All the bonds he had been in were twisted things that fought to control him. He never could have imagined that a bond could be so pure and devoted.

Could his bond become something like that?

The moment was broken when Keith’s phone dinged in his pocket. Allura jabbed her hand forward, as quick as a snake, and snatched it out of his pocket. Keith whined for her to give it back, but she shook her head with a smile.

“Looks like someone is happy to be seeing you tonight.” She purred and fought off the familiar’s attempts to get the phone back.

“Let me see,”

“Hey, Shiro, what’s Keith password?”

“6287”

“Shiro, don’t tell her.” He complained petulantly, both of them ignoring him. He watched as Allura sent something back, and dread welled up in his gut.

“And there,” she said with a flourish, handing the phone back to him. He clutched it protectively at his chest. “Now you’re excited to see him too.”

Keith looked down to see what damage was done.

**From: Lance**

**(1:34 p.m.)**

_hi, its Lance._

_again_

_i just realised that we never said where we were going to meet lol_

_how bout that italian place on oak street at 7?_

_if you still want to meet, though_

 

**To: Lance**

**(1:42 p.m.)**

_Hi Lance!_

_Yeah, seven o’clock sounds good. I’ll definitely be there! I’m looking forward to seeing you._

Keith groaned loudly and put his head in his hands. Behind him, Allura and Shiro snickered like the little shits they were, making Keith want to take back all the nice things he had said about them. They were actually both evil.

He looked back down at his phone and reread what Allura had written.

_I’ll definitely be there! I’m looking forward to seeing you._

Well, he definitely wasn’t getting out of this now.

 

* * *

 

**Lance**

 

Lance couldn’t believe it. Like _really_ couldn’t believe it. If you had asked him yesterday whether he thought the punch-first-ask-questions-later familiar would actually agree to go on a date with him, he would have said you were completely nuts. Honestly, he thought he had a better chance of winning the Olympics than winning some of the familiar’s time.

But no, Keith had said yes- the evidence was right there in his phone.

And because of Lance’s completely and utter expectation of being turned down, he was not prepared.

At all.

So therefore, when he realised that he had nothing planned, no dinner reservations and not a clue of how to impress the surly familiar, Lance did what he always did when he was stressed the fuck out- he cleaned.

First, he started with the damn laundry because like hell he was going to show up in yellow and orange clothes like he did at the Selection. He collected everything in his room that could possibly be washed: his clothes, his towels, his bedsheets and pillowcases, and started on what would become five loads of laundry.

He sorted, dried and folded clothes in a panicked frenzy as his mind whirled around what the hell he was going to do about tonight. But no matter, how clean his clothes got, his date ideas stayed stubbornly blank.

Finally, when there were no more clothes to clean, Lance went on to start attacking the rest of the house, polishing the floor and wiping down pretty much every flat surface he found. Pidge and Hunk found him about an hour into doing that when they emerged from their little “invention cave”.

“Hey Lance,” Pidge said from the top of the stairs, a little bit of fear leaked into her voice. “What are you doing?”

“I’m cleaning the fucking floor.” He shouted angrily and whipped around to face his friends from the bottom of the stairwell. He was brandishing his mop like a weapon and had his hair tucked into a red bandana. His face was flushed and as he cleaned he whispered Spanish expletives under his breath.

Now, in hindsight, he would admit that he probably looked a little insane. But just a little bit, not enough to warrant the bug eyed looks that his friends were giving him.

“Why are you cleaning the floor?” Hunk spoke slowly like he was talking to a crazy person, which only annoyed Lance more and added fuel to his fire.

“Because it’s a goddamn mess.” Lance raged, throwing a towel down and jabbing at a frustrating corner. “Everything is a goddamn mess. This is a mess. I’m a mess. The date is going to be a mess.”

As Lance was shouting, Pidge and Hunk had begun to approach slowly and the bird familiar had slowly begun taking cleaning products away from him. Hunk came closer with his hands up, before laying a hand on Lance’s wrists and stilling his frantic movements. Lance realised that his chest was heaving and his heart was beating wildly against his ribcage. He was having a hard time breathing. His magic tried to calm him down, but it only made it worse

“Lance, please tell us what’s going on?” Hunk murmured and gently rubbed up and down the other witch’s arms. Slowly, Lance felt his breathing begin to return to normal and his chest relax.

“I’m going on a date with that familiar I met at the Selection.” He muttered with his head turned to the side. He didn’t need to see Hunk to know that he must be smiling.

“What? Lance that’s awesome!” he practically cheered but stopped when Lance began shaking his head.

“It’s not awesome, Hunk, it’s a mess. Just like everything.” He whined and dropped his head into his hands, practically collapsing at the bottom of the stairs. Oh god, he was going to fuck this up. He knew it, he just knew it. There was no way in hell this was going to go well and then the familiar would never bond with him, and then he wouldn’t ever have a familiar, and then he would die and...

His thoughts kept whirling around in his head and his breath was coming out fast again. His friends were silent, but after a beat he heard them shift around him and suddenly, there were hands gently guiding him into an upright seat.

“Lance, buddy, I don’t get it why isn’t this a good thing? Why is everything a mess?” Hunk questioned, trying to get him to open up.

Lance though was never one to hold his problems in unless he had to. Unfortunately, his anxiety about getting a familiar was deeply tied to the dark shadow of the curse and he didn’t dare burden anyone else with that.

Hunk was looking at him with such kind eyes, though, and every part of Lance desperately wanted to unload all his troubles.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell Hunk that he was practically staring death in the face.

He could tell him about the date, though.

“Last night,” Lance started, already feeling some of the tension beginning to roll of because he was _telling_ somebody, “I asked Keith on a date, and I didn’t think there was any chance that he would agree. He said yes, though, and now he’s expecting me to take him on a date and I don’t have anything planned.”

Hunk didn’t reply immediately and before he could get a word in, Pidge piped up. “Then why don’t we plan something?”

“What?” Lance said confused, but Hunk had already caught on and was nodding his head at Pidge.

“That’s a great idea.” He turned back to Lance. “It’s only one o’clock. I bet we can still get you a reservation to a nice restaurant.”

“And flowers!” Pidge chirped.

“Yes, of course. And flowers and some chocolates and maybe balloons. How does that sound?” Hunk asked and Lance realised that both of his friends were staring at him waiting for an answer.

He was lost for words, completely taken aback by how quickly his friends had come to his aid. When he was growing up, he had always been picked on either for being scrawny or not saying words right or liking boys too. Because of that, he always kinda forgot that he had friends like this- friends that loved him no matter what and were actually willing to do things for him. The realisation of it struck him deeply and he fought not to burst into tears.

“Yeah,” he choked out shakily, rubbing his eyes so it didn’t look like he was welling up, “All that sounds amazing.”

 

And so, began the execution of what had to be the quickest date ever put together. Within thirty minutes, Hunk had pulled some strings at a romantic Italian place and managed to get Lance a good dinner reservation.

Pidge had gone and appeared later with flowers and a heart shaped box of chocolate. When Lance tried to pay her back for them, all she said was “you losing at MarioKart like a thousand times is payment enough”. (He still snuck some bills into her bag without her noticing.)

An hour before the date, he practically had a mental breakdown over what outfit he was going to wear and dragged Pidge up to his room for her (frankly unhelpful) opinion. Eventually, they settled on one of his nicer blue shirts that brought out his eyes and some ironed pants.

And before he knew it, he was being dropped off by Hunk and Pidge in front of the restaurant and waiting to see a familiar mullet.

He didn’t have to wait long because after about five minutes of standing around, he saw a red motorcycle park near the curb. The vehicle was sleek and elegant, even though he knew the raw power behind it. It was the type of machine that he only had ever seen in catalogues and never thought someone would have in real life.

The beauty of the motorcycle, though, was nothing compared to the boy riding it. Oh god, he was hot. So hot. Please have mercy on his bi heart, hot.

He stood frozen as he watched the familiar take off his helmet and attempt to fix his hair in the mirror. He quickly patted down his helmet head and noticed that his ears were anxiously flicking forward and backwards on his head.

Maybe Keith was as nervous about this date as Lance was. The witch gulped and steeled his insides before calling Keith’s name.

The familiar’s whole body instantly straightened, his ears perked high on his head. He whipped around to face Lance, and the witch broke out in a huge smile. The familiar, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to run in a different direction. Usually that would bother Lance, but the witch couldn’t get over how adorable Keith looked, standing there obviously having no idea what he was doing.

“Hey Keith,” he repeated, but gentler this time. The tone seemed to ease some of the tension in the familiar’s body and he looked less likely to bolt. Unfortunately for Lance’s heart, nervous Keith melted into embarrassed Keith which was even more adorable. “Here I got these for you.” He handed off the flowers that Pidge had bought and enjoyed the pretty blush that travelled up Keith’s cheeks.  

He couldn’t let himself be distracted though, his mission tonight was to impress the familiar like his life depended on it. Because it kinda did.

Which meant that he had to put his best foot forward and charm the socks off the awkward boy. Inside him, his magic sent him the feeling of encouragement, which only motivated him more.

“Uh, hey…” the familiar trailed off, before suddenly looking panicked. Lance could tell he was desperately trying to remember his name, which amused him much more than it should. After a minute of the familiar’s sputtering, Lance had mercy.

“My name is Lance,” he cut Keith off before he could get out a shaky apology, “It’s fine. We’ve only met like once and you were kinda too busy punching me in the face to learn my name.” He said as a joke and nearly choked when the familiar’s face fell.

Shit, wrong move. Then again probably always the wrong move to bring up punching on a first date. Abort, Lance.

“Wait, no. I’m sorry, no hard feelings.”

“No, you shouldn’t be sorry,” the familiar admitted, stopping Lance’s nervous rambling, “I shouldn’t have punched you. I’m sorry.”

There was silence between them as Lance processed the words. An apology from the infamous Keith Kogane was the last thing that he had expected on this date. He looked over the familiar, noting the way that he was hunched in on himself and his tail twitched nervously at the end. He looked small and awkward and Lance had a hard time fitting him to the image the rumours painted of him.

With Keith, it seemed like it was just one surprise after another.

“Thanks, Keith.” He said softly, which made the other boy look him in the eyes, “How about we just start off new, huh?” He offered his hand. “I’m Lance McClain, water witch and guitarist extraordinaire.”

Keith stared at his hand for a beat, before reaching out and shaking it. “Keith Kogane,” he greeted in a gentle tone that Lance had never heard him use, “fire familiar and, uh, I can draw a little bit?” He said the last part like a question and it only made Lance’s grin grow.

“Let’s go inside then, shall we?”

“Yeah, lead the way.”

Lance guided Keith into the restaurant and remembered to do everything that Hunk had advised him to do an hour before the date. He opened Keith’s door, pulled out his chair and laughed at all his awkward little (though adorable) attempts at humour.

The waitress came quickly to introduce herself and take their drink orders. She left with a smile and suddenly it was just Lance and Keith and an empty white table between them. The familiar fiddled nervously with his silverware, refusing to meet Lance’s eyes. He didn’t seem like he was going to start conversation any time soon, so the witch decided to take matters into his own hands.

“Soooo, Keith” he drawled and the familiar immediately straightened, ears perked forward. “How are you?”

Keith seemed to panic at the simple question and started to sputter. After some intelligible attempts at communication, he took a deep breath and started more slowly.

“As you can tell, I’m kinda nervous. It’s been a long time since I’ve gone on a date like this.” He admitted, picking at his fingers.

Lance nodded in agreement, and gave him a smile that seemed to relax the other boy. “Yeah me too. I was kinda freaking out a few hours ago.”

“Why?” The familiar said so bluntly that it made Lance flinch a little, but he brushed it off.

“I didn’t think I had a chance with you, especially after you punched me. When you said yes, I realised that I needed to cobble a date together in a few hours. So, yeah, I was a little stressed.”

This time Keith gave him a small smile that made his heart swell. “Well, I think you’re doing pretty good so far.”

The small compliment immediately warmed Lance inside and he felt the faintest trace of the small connection that he and Keith had made at the Selection. His confidence was bolstered, and he was a little more sure that this date wouldn’t be a complete disaster.

He didn’t speak for a beat, and then chose another safe topic.

“So what’s the deal between you and the Iron Eagle?” he asked, a little embarrassed to admit that the question had been bugging him since he had discovered the connection between the familiar and his childhood hero.

“The Iron Eagle?” Keith was obviously confused, until understanding lit on his face. “Oh, you mean Shiro! Wait… were you a fan of him?”

“I mean I wouldn’t consider myself a fan…” he said even as he felt a blush on his cheeks.

The familiar across from him immediately perked and looked like a cat that had just spotted a mouse. “You were!” he explained and suddenly burst out laughing.

“No! What! Stop laughing it isn’t even that funny!” Lance’s arguments only made Keith laugh more and Lance slumped back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He pretended to be put out by the familiar’s response, but internally he was struggling not to coo at how cute the familiar looked. It was so much nicer to see him like this, bright and happy, instead of sullenly sitting in a corner.

How had he ever been afraid of this laughing boy?

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Keith finally said when he had caught his breath again. “I know a lot of people look up to him, but sometimes it’s hard to think of him like that. I mean, I’ve literally seen him try to fight a raccoon with a spatula.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, it had wandered into our campsite and tried to steal Shiro’s Doritos. He tried to shoo it away, which only pissed it off and it chased him onto a picnic table. The raccoon definitely won _and_ it ate all the chips.”

Lance burst out laughing as he imagined his childhood hero cowering away from a raccoon. The familiar across from him also starting chuckling and soon both of them were lost in the laughter.

They composed themselves when the waitress brought their drinks and asked for their appetisers.

“That still doesn’t answer my original question…” Lance prompted and Keith nodded.

“Technically, he’s my guardian, but he’s more like an older brother to me.”

“That’s cool. He seems like he really cares for you.”

“Yeah, he does.” Keith played with the straw in his drink, a small smile forming on his face. Lance didn’t realise he had been staring until the familiar caught his eyes, raising a single eyebrow.

“What?” he said in confusion.

“No, it’s nothing.” Then, Lance decided to take a risk. “It’s just you look cute when you smile.”

He felt rewarded when a deep flush rose on the familiar’s face. He opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it and looked downward. His face became more red the longer Lance looked at him, but Keith kept smiling.

“Thanks,” he whispered almost too quiet for Lance to hear, “you look good, too.”

Lance’s smile widened and he tried to contain the happiness that was bubbling in him. His magic was twirling joyfully and in that moment he felt invincible. When Keith’s face had returned to a normal colour, the awkwardness between them was gone and they continued on trading stories about themselves, growing closer with every word.

 

All in all, by the time the dinner course came around, Lance would have to say that he was definitely killing this date.

Unfortunately, that’s when everything started going to shit.

“So, you never did tell me, why did you punch me?” Lance asked and the familiar across from him instantly stiffened. He stopped eating and tapped his forked nervously against the plate before he answered.

“You surprised me. I didn’t think that anyone was going to try to connect with me. It’s not like I wanted to be there to begin with.” He looked down and sullenly stabbed at his pasta. He practically glared at the plate, and his ears were tight against his head. All of that should have set off the warning bells in Lance’s head.

Keyword: _should._

“What?” He exclaimed, loud enough to make the other jump, “why didn’t you want to be there? Isn’t the whole point of going to a Selection starting a connecting and hoping for a bond?” The witch was so caught up in trying to figure Keith out, that he missed the way that the familiar was clutching his fork and how his eyes narrowed in anger.

“Lay off it, Lance,” he familiar growled, his voice full of warning, “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“I just don’t get it.” He barrelled on, “Why would you go somewhere if you didn’t want to go? Were you liked forced or something?”

Suddenly, the familiar slammed his utensils on the table, so loud that everyone in the restaurant turned to stare. He was standing and his body was practically shaking in anger. His ears were flat against his head, his tail thrashed wildly and Lance could taste the burnt edges of his angry magic in the air. Inside him, his own magic came in like the tide, ready to protect him if necessary.

“Shut up, Lance.” The familiar hissed darkly under his breath. His voice was menacing and it sent a shiver down his spine. He flinched at the words, and really should have backed down, but he didn’t.

A wave of anger, which he didn’t even know he, had rushed through him and suddenly he was growling back. “I think I deserve some answers Keith. After all, you are the one who punched me.”

He instantly regretted the words and watched as all the progress he had made with the familiar crumble. All of Keith’s walls immediately went up and his glare deepened. His eyes, jumped between Lance and the door, which made the witch pause, but before he could really think about it, the familiar was speaking again.

“That’s just like you witches.” He turned his head down and chuckled under his breath, suddenly sounding more disappointed than anger, “Always pushing. Why was I kidding myself?” He looked back at the witch and Lance was struck with the hurt in his eyes.

Lance was frozen, staring deep into the familiar’s face and desperately trying to figure out what the hell was happening. The other’s sudden sadness had taken him completely off guard and dissipated any of the anger in him. Why did this familiar who was supposed so strong and violent, look so broken? Why did a rather simple question set him off like this.

Lance was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost missed the familiar gathering his jacket and beginning to walk away from the table.

“Wait you’re leaving?” Lance said in disbelief and something in his tone must have caught the familiar because he looked back over his shoulder. Keith met his eyes with an unreadable expression before turning back around and walking forward.

“No, Keith, wait. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you.” Lance jolted into motion, panic overtaking him, and he grabbed Keith by the wrist.

The familiar instantly stiffened and jumped away from the contact like he had been electrocuted. He whipped around like a snake and Lance stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the fear in the other’s eyes.

“Don’t touch me!” He yelled, his chest heaving. He looked like a cornered animal, obviously expecting Lance to attack him. “You can’t force me to do anything.” He ground out between his teeth, and Lance couldn’t tell whether Keith was speaking to him or himself.

Then, as fast as the moment happened, Keith turned away and fled the restaurant.

Lance stood there, watching the familiar’s fading back. He couldn’t… he couldn’t… He didn’t know what to do. The restaurant was silent, all the people staring at him as he realised that his world was crumbling.

Finally, he turned, paid the bill and walked out into the night alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and please consider leaving a kudos and comment! Your kind words help keep me motivated and let me know that y'all enjoy me content. 
> 
> What to know what happens next even faster? I post chapter previews, story updates and my general ramblings on my tumblr @salparadiselost, so check that out!


	5. Some Things Given, Some Things Held Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Thanks for coming back to this story and I hope you enjoy chapter five. As always, many, many thank you's go to my two betas, Zo and Cyan, who bring this writing to the next level.
> 
> Go on, get reading!

Chapter 5: Some Things Given, Some Things Held Back

* * *

 

**Keith**

 

Keith tore through the street, feeling his motorcycle purring under him and the wind whipping against his face. It had begun to drizzle and the cold droplets of rain bit into his skin. He squinted through the helmet’s visor and revved the engine to shoot forward even faster. The speed of the ride caught in his chest and lights appeared in flashes as he passed them.

He fought to keep his focus on the ride, his focus on the road…

Anything but the tight sob that threatened to spill from his chest.

He gripped the handlebars tighter and leaned down closer to the vehicle. He let the speed of the ride consume him, but before long the journey had to come to an end and he pulled up in front of the Garrison dorms.

He slowed to a stop in front of the building, putting a leg down to steady himself. He stared up at the imposing compound with its huge brown walls and its windows that seemed to glare down at him. There was a fence that circled the property, and its iron barbs gleamed in the rain.

He hated having to call this place home when really it was more like a prison.

A small scared part of him told him to turn around, to just let the motorcycle take him as far as they could go.

He knew it would be pointless, though. He couldn’t just leave Shiro and Allura, they were the only people he had. Anyways, he knew the Garrison would find him. They would label him as a familiar going feral (they wouldn’t necessarily be wrong), call him dangerous, and have dozens of people searching in a matter of hours.

Keith turned, guiding his cycle into the parking garage. He found a spot and parked before getting off and shaking some of the water from himself. Turning, he began to walk towards the exit, but just before he reached the entrance of the building he stopped.

He rubbed a hand over his chest and glared down at his body. Ever since he had left the restaurant, he had begun to feel an aching in his chest, as if his heart was a little heavier than normal. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just subtly different. Keith checked his magic, and was relieved to find it normal, though a little restless. He expected it to be that way, anyway, because of the fight with Lance.

He shrugged off the feeling, chalking it up to just being upset. He continued forward and slowly began to climb up towards his brother’s apartment.

For a moment, he considered going in the other direction and going to the small one-bedroom studio assigned to him. The place was small, cold and barren, but if he went there he wouldn’t have to face Shiro’s disappointed stares until tomorrow.

But every time he thought about the room, so empty and quiet, it caused Keith’s ears to ring, and he shivered and found himself speeding up towards his brother’s place. Because, despite all the disappointed dad looks, at least _someone_ was there waiting for him.

He came to a stop in front of Shiro’s door and used his key to unlock it. As he opened the door, the familiar smell of home hit him like a ton of bricks and he fought not to let out the sob he had been holding in.

He looked inside, seeing his brother flopped all over the couch watching tv with his wings in awkward positions. His feathers were mussed up and internally Keith sighed at his brother’s impatience for grooming. Allura must have forgotten to do it before she left for the night, and Shiro must have decided to just forgo it. He really could be a disaster sometimes.

“Keith!” he greeted upon noticing him, twisting on the couch so he could face Keith. He was smiling until he saw his dripping brother. “You look like a drowned rat,” he deadpanned, and Keith shot him a not-so-serious glare, steeping into the room.

“I’m a cat, not a rat.” he grumbled as Shiro stood before disappearing into the bathroom. He really hadn’t noticed how wet he was, but now that he was inside, he had begun to shiver. Water dripped on to the wooden floor under him and his ears were sitting lower on his head than they normally would if he wasn’t soaked. Soon, Shiro reappeared with a fluffy towel that he dumped on the other familiar’s head.

“Oh, what am I going to do with you,” Shiro said fondly, as he ruffled Keith’s ears and hair with the towel. Keith blindly tried to swat him away, but eventually gave up and just pulled the towel off his head to dry the rest of him.

“So, how’d it go?”

He turned to look his brother in the eyes and almost flinched when he saw all his hope. He knew that his brother had desperately wanted this date to go well for him. Lance could be the solution to all their problems, both a way to keep him from going feral and a way to get the Garrison from assigning him elsewhere. Not to mention, he knew that Shiro only wanted him to be happy and thought that this bond could make that a reality.

He didn’t want to break that hope. He didn’t want to admit that he had fucked everything up. Again.

 _Why did you even try?_ The dark, broken part of him curled. _You don’t deserve a bond, so why chase after one? You’re too broken._

“Keith,” his brother’s voice cut through his thoughts, and he snapped his head up. Shiro brother was giving him a soft look, he didn’t look disappointed at all. He was standing right in front of Keith with both of his hands on his shoulders. “It’s okay, you’re alright. Just tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know,” he whispered, even though he did know. He shook his head. “I fucked up.” He admitted, wanting to curl into a corner. “I ruined it. Lance, he was great, but then he asked me why I punched him and…” his voice trailed off, and he felt his body shaking involuntarily, “I kinda exploded and I stormed out.”

He didn’t tell Shiro about what Lance had said.

_Why would you go somewhere if you didn’t want to go? Were you liked forced or something?_

The words rang in his ears and twisted painfully through his mind.

Shiro kept looking at him deep in the eyes, and Keith half-feared that maybe his brother would be able to hear the words as he thought them. Eventually, he broke the gaze and nudged Keith into a side-hug.

“Okay,” he said firmly. The word was a silent truce between them- they both knew that Keith had more on his mind, but Shiro was accepting the silence, promising not to push any further.

“Why don’t you take the bed tonight? I’ll just sleep out here.” Shiro pushed Keith towards his own room. Keith turned around and immediately began protesting.

“No, you can’t. It’ll hurt your wings.”

“I’ll be fine.” Shiro insisted, pushing Keith to the point where he had to stumble forward. “They’ll be a little sore in the morning, but it’s okay.”

Obviously not taking no for an answer, Keith accepted his brother’s offer and wished him a good night on the couch. Shiro chuckled and promised to see him in the morning before shutting the door to the bedroom.

Keith listened to his brother shuffle around in the other room before he turned off the tv so he could fall asleep. He took that as a cue to also begin turning in for the night. He brushed his teeth, and changed into one of Shiro’s oversized t-shirts as pajamas-  not bothering with any pants- and just slipped into bed.

He wrapped the blanket around himself as if it would help keep out the dark thoughts pressing against his mind.

Lance’s words just kept repeating themselves again and again.

_Why would you go somewhere if you didn’t want to go? Were you liked forced or something?_

_Why would you go? Were you forced? What kind of familiar are you if you let that happen to yourself?_

The questions exposed the small hurt part of him that questioned what he was. Was he even really a familiar? Maybe not with the twisted, mangled state of his magic and the fact that he didn’t have control of it most of the time.

Familiars were defined by their bonds. What was he if all of his bonds were forced and broken?

That sob that he had been keeping in his chest since he started to walk away from Lance caught against his throat and he finally let it out. He didn’t cry, just heaved against the pillow, trying to be quiet enough not to wake his brother.

Suddenly, a wave of anger rushed through him. He tightened his hand, letting his claws dig into the bedding underneath him. He cursed the Garrison for turning him into this pathetic scrap of a familiar, for tossing him from witch to witch without his consent.

He remembered the first day the Garrison had told him he was to be paired with a witch. He had been so innocent back then, and the Garrison had looked so much like a saviour. How could he have not trusted them?

They had swooped into his life of foster parents and group homes and plucked him out. All those places that viewed him as a number or another mouth to feed were gone and replaced by an institution that promised that he was special. They said that he was unique, that he had incredible power, that they would take care of him because of it.

And they gave him Shiro.

He had been a surly thing back then, barely trusting and snapping at everyone. The foster system had made him angry and suspicious of every adult, but Shiro didn’t seem to see any of that. From the first day of being assigned as his guardian, Shiro had only ever cared for him and, for the first time, Keith had a family.

Soon after being settled with Shiro, the Garrison had announced that Keith was to be bonded with a witch. Keith had been happy, even if it meant that he would be leaving the only person he had begun to trust.

Because witches were supposed to be good. They were supposed to be caring. They were supposed to love him

They were none of that.

Keith shuddered as he remembered the feeling of betrayal when a bond had first been forced on him. He was silent the entire time, too shocked to make a sound, too scared to fight back. Cold violation had coursed through him and didn’t leave until Shiro came to save him after a week with the witch.

The next time he had screamed, the time after that he had begged, the time after that he realised it didn’t matter what he wanted.

He learned that the Garrison and witches they gave him to didn’t listen because they didn’t care what he wanted.

Then suddenly, Lance’s voice in his head cut through his thoughts and replayed in his head.

_No, Keith, wait. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you_

He had said he was sorry. He had admitted his mistake.

No witch had ever said that to Keith or cared enough to admit their mistakes. Yeah, he had pushed, but then he had backed off and for the first time, Keith considered that maybe he had overreacted.

After all, Lance did deserve to know why Keith had punched him.

Keith groaned loudly, pulling his hands through his hair. His fingers brushed against his ears and he pushed them against his head in frustration. He was getting a headache from so many conflicting thoughts. The ache in his chest from earlier was now heavier, and Keith rubbed over his heart again.

Exhaustion wore heavy on his body, sitting deep in his bones, and sinking in his stomach. His eyelids were heavy and yet, he couldn’t calm the restless tempest inside his head. He just felt so unsettled, like there was something very essentially _wrong,_ but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

The Garrison and the thought of going feral loomed darkly in the back of his mind, but the presence was so familiar at this point, Keith knew that it wasn’t what was keeping him up. The feeling in his body was unsettling, but his magic wasn’t alerting him that there was anything wrong.

He continued to try to figure it out, but suddenly the image of Lance looking heartbroken at the restaurant surfaced behind his eyes again. The memory made him want to flinch and regret instantly rose within him.

He shouldn’t have snapped at Lance. Lance was good. He was different. He wasn’t from the Garrison. He said that he was sorry.

Keith might be imagining it or placing hope into a false conclusion, but he thinks…

He thinks…

That maybe, Lance just might care about him.

Shame came just as quickly as regret and Keith dug deeper into the blankets around him. The unsettled part of him grew more restless, like his insides were a snow globe that someone had shaken.

Memories of Lance’s hurt face kept replaying in his head, and blindly he reached for his phone on the nightstand and brought it into his blanket mound.

Almost feverishly, he scrolled through his list of contacts until he saw the name he wanted, and then, before he could talk himself out of it, he pressed ‘call’.

He brought the phone to his ear and listened to it ring in the night. There were two rings before suddenly there was a voice on the other end.

“Hello?” The hurt in Lance’s voice rang loudly, and crushed Keith, bringing all his emotions immediately to the forefront. He swallowed them down, though, and fought to control himself.

“Hello?” Lance said again, this time sounding more confused. “Hello? Keith? Are you there?” Keith might be imagining it, but he thought he heard a little hope.

“Yes, uh, yeah, Lance, I’m here,” he answered. There was a pause between them; it was obvious that neither knew what to say.

“Is there a reason that you called or are you just…” Lance didn’t end the sentence, but the question was obvious in his tone. Keith himself didn’t know why he was calling, but for the first time after the date, the heaviness in his chest was lifting.

“I wanted to say I was sorry,” Keith whispered, not sure if the words were going through the phone. They must have though, because then he heard a catch in Lance’s breath. “I’m sorry I left and that I keep messing everything up.”

“Hey, no, it wasn’t completely your fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” Keith said firmly, and he could almost see Lance flinching at the tone, but then he instantly softened. “But I also shouldn’t have overreacted. I promise I’m trying… it’s just,” his voice broke a little bit and he didn’t even try to hide it, “hard for me.”

“No, I get it, I’m not always the easiest person to get along with. My mouth begins to run and I can’t always catch up to it.” Lance paused, and the little bit of self-deprecation didn’t necessarily sit right with Keith, but before he could comment Lance was speaking again. “I think this is normal, though, we just met each other and we still have… time.”

There was a pause between the sentence and that last word, something about it set off the alarms in Keith’s head. Lance said the sentence like he didn’t believe it, but Keith couldn’t think of a reason why he wouldn’t. His magic twisted inside of him, letting him know that something _was_ wron _g…_ but what?

There was something Lance wasn’t telling him and as much as Keith wanted to ask, there were things that Keith wasn’t telling Lance. He wasn’t sure if either of them were ready to face those things.

“Yeah, we do,” Keith agreed, hoping to bring the witch some confidence “Do you want to try again? Maybe more casual, not as a date, but just over coffee? I know this great place on Henry.”

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.” Lance was starting to sound more like himself and it brought a smile to Keith’s face. “Could you text me the address and time?”

“Sure.”

Keith realised that his chest wasn’t heavy anymore.

 

* * *

 

**Lance**

 

The night pressed into Lance from all sides, almost like it was going to swallow him whole at any moment. He was walking away from the restaurant, the lights from the building were fading behind him. He thought maybe if he just kept walking, he would disappear like an apparition.

Eventually, he reached his car and reality seemed to snap back into place. His hands were cold and numb as he fumbled with his keys. His fingers seemed more clumsy than they ever had been and just didn’t work right…Why wouldn’t they do what he wanted them to do?

He kept struggling with the keys and the longer he fought with them, the more his anger grew. He just couldn’t get it right. He couldn’t get it _right!_

The keys fell on to the pavement with a clink and Lance snapped. He let out the sob he didn’t know he was holding back and leaned forward until his forehead rested against his car. He slammed his fists on the roof on the car, and fought to breathe.

Why couldn’t he get it right? Why couldn’t he get anything right?

He kept crying, watching his tears fall on the pavement like raindrops. The threat of the curse rose in the back of his mind, only making him feel worse. His magic rippled inside him, keening and trying to comfort him. It couldn’t do anything though. _He_ couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t stop the curse alone, and he had offended his one chance of surviving so much that the familiar would probably never want to see him again.

And just as hurtful as thinking he had hurt his chances of survival may be, he thought of how he hurt _Keith,_ and that made it all worse. The beautiful laughing boy that he had just begun to draw out of his shell. And, yes, he had only known him for a few days now, but there was something undeniable about Keith that made Lance want to give him the world.

Something more than the potential bond between them.

After a bit, the tears finally stopped and Lance could pull himself together enough to unlock his car. He got in and silently drove back to his house, and as he was driving, it started to rain and raindrops fell against the roof like broken glass.

 

He approached his house, parked and sat in his car numbly. He struggled to find the motivation to get out of the car, but eventually the knowledge that his roommates were probably waiting by the window prompted him to move. He dragged himself out, forgoing any attempts to move quickly to the house despite the heavy rain falling on his head.

He got to the front door, and when he opened it, Hunk was already standing there with a towel ready. Pidge was nearby, her wings rustling nervously behind her. His thought about them watching through the window clearly proved correct. He slowly closed the door behind him and tentatively met the other witch’s eyes.

“Hey” he said quietly, his voice still hoarse from his sobbing earlier. It wasn’t super obvious, but Hunk knew him well enough to see right through him. He offered him the towel and Lance silently accepted it.

“Hey,” greeted Pidge gently, and she came closer. She stretched out a wing and Lance easily accepted the pleasant weight on his shoulders. It was warm and he had to hunch down a bit to be completely under it, but it was worth the comfort.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well,” she said, and despite her tender tone, Lance couldn’t help but flinch at the words. Pidge immediately felt the action because her wing was draped around him and, humming, she pulled him in closer with her wing.

Finally, he brought his hands up and hugged the familiar tightly. Within a couple of moments, Hunk was there, wrapping his arms around the both of them. Lance leaned back against his friends and let them carry his weight.

For that instant, he felt like the luckiest guy in the world.

After a few minutes of hugging, they drew apart and Hunk silently led Lance into the living room. He practically pushed the other witch on to the couch and began piling blankets on him. He had a stubborn look in his eye, ignoring Lance’s protests of ‘you don’t need to do all this’, and sent Pidge off to make a hot drink with the command of a drill sergeant.

When he determined that Lance was properly swaddled, he sat down heavily on the couch. Lance immediately began curling towards him and Hunk brought his head to his shoulder. Pidge appeared from the kitchen carrying three mugs of hot cocoa. She gave one to each of them and Lance immediately took a deep breath of the sweet-scented drink. It relaxed him and he didn’t even realise how cold he was until he had it in his hands. He began sipping at it until Hunk broke the silence between them.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Lance kept drinking and contemplated his answer. Did he want to talk about it? The raw hurt in him said ‘no’ , but a greater part of him screamed ‘yes!’. He desperately wanted to tell them everything: the curse, the fear, the date, his growing attraction to Keith, how fucked up his life was. There were so many things that he wasn’t talking about and the knowledge of that turned his stomach.

And Hunk and Pidge were right there, both so loving and open. He knew that they would accept him if he told them about the curse- they would be devastated, of course, but they wouldn’t turn him away like he had feared when he was younger. He didn’t want to cause them that heartache, though, so he kept his mouth firmly shut on the subject.

The hurt from the date, though, was probably safe and the freshness of the wound demanded attention.

“At first, it was going well,” he started slowly, in between sips of hot cocoa, “I gave him the flowers. I opened the door for him. I laughed at his jokes. I could tell he was enjoying himself… At first everything was perfect…” He trailed off, suddenly afraid to admit this next part, afraid that maybe his friends would judge him for what he had said.

“It’s okay, Lance,” Pidge’s voice came from his right and he blinked at her. “You can tell us, I promise. We won’t judge you for it.” It was almost like she had read his thoughts. Then again, she was the smartest person he knew.

Her words prompted him to continue.

“I asked him why he punched me, and he said he didn’t want to talk about it. It’s stupid, I know, but him not telling me made me angry, and I pushed for an answer.” He paused, unable to meet their eyes and looked down at his drink “Then, he, I don’t know, exploded and he just kinda left…”

He finished and neither of his friends said anything. The silence quickly grew uncomfortable and he looked up to see what their reactions were. He was surprised that neither one look disappointed and instead looked confused.

“Come on guys, you have to say something…” he urged, his nerves leaking into his voice.

Hunk reacted immediately to Lance’s distress. “I’m sorry Lance. It’s okay. We aren’t mad at you or anything it’s just...”

“We don’t get it.” Pidge cut in bluntly when her witch started stalling.

Lance blinked and furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean you don’t get it?”

Pidge fluffed her wings and crossed her arms over her chest. “Like I get it that you were pushy with the question and like, yeah, bringing up him punching you probably isn’t the best date material, but it’s not enough to make him explode.”

The blue witch shuffled nervously on the couch and picked at his nails. “Well…I mean…” he trailed off and kept flicked his eyes over to Pidge, suddenly very aware of the familiar.

Hunk, bless his soul, instantly picked up on the way he was looking at Pidge and put a comforting hand on Lance’s shoulder.

“Hey Pidge,” he said, catching his familiar’s attention. “I think me and Lance need some witch-to-witch time, do you mind going up and working on that project we were tinkering with earlier? I promise we’ll come get you later.”

Only Hunk could say that in a way that didn’t sound the least bit rude or offensive. Pidge, of course, wasn’t insulted by the words, and gave both of them a soft smile. She rose gracefully from the couch, her wings following her like a majestic cape.

Suddenly, in an uncharacteristic show of affection, she leaned down and cupped Lance’s face in her hands. She tilted his head up towards her and laid a kiss on his forehead. “Stay strong, Lance,” she whispered, “You may be a bit of an idiot, but you’re _our_ idiot and we like you that way. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” Then, with another smile, she began walking away.

Lance blinked, suddenly unsure of whether that actually happened or not.

“You look surprised.” Hunk’s amusement clear in his voice.

Lance shrugged still watching where Pidge had disappeared into. “She doesn’t usually show emotion like that, usually it’s more…” he searched for a word, “teasing. It’s not bad, just different.”

“She’s worried about you, you know.” Hunk hadn’t turned to look at Lance yet and it was clear that he was caught in his own thoughts.

Lance turned to him, studying the profile of his contemplating face. He wasn’t exactly sure about how to take that information.

“She feels like you’ve been distant these last few days or at least not yourself,” Hunk continued, “I can’t say I’m not worried too.” Finally, Hunk met his eyes, warmth clear in them.

“So tell me, bud, what happened on your date?”

Lance sunk back into the couch and hiked the blankets up around his shoulders. He was silent, and a part of him really wanted to just hightail it to his room and shut the door. But Hunk’s steady gaze kept him grounded and ensured him that whatever he said would be heard.

“Hunk, have you ever had doubts about bonding with Pidge?”

The other witch blinked, clearly not expecting the question from Lance. His surprise quickly melted into confusion and he furrowed his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” he said slowly.

“Like did you ever get the sense that maybe your familiar didn’t want to bond with you?” As Lance spoke, he waved his hands around, like the motions could help Hunk understand what he meant better. The other witch, unfortunately, still looked confused.

“But if she didn’t bond with me, then she would go feral?” The sentence wasn’t technically a question, but his tone made it sound like one.

“No, no,” Lance replied, still waving his hands, “if we ignored the whole feral thing, do you still think that Pidge would want to bond with you?”

Finally, the other witch seemed to get at what Lance was saying and he hummed in thought. He put a hand to his chin and narrowed his eyes.

“Yes, I think so,” he answered, meeting Lance’s eyes again, “witches and familiars have something special. We make each other better, not just magically, but as a person. I know you don’t have a bond yet, but when you do, you’ll know what I mean. I can’t really describe it, but it’s _something_ and that something is important to both witches and familiars.”

Lance stared up at him with wide eyes. He was suddenly struck by the intense wave of _want_ that rushed through him. Not just for banishing the curse, but for feeling that _something,_ for feeling a completeness that was so amazing that you couldn’t put it into words. He desperately, desperately, wanted the opportunity to give that to another person, too.

“Why are you asking this Lance?” Hunk questioned, drawing Lance’s attention, “Does that familiar not want to bond with you?”

Lance hesitated. “I mean he hasn’t said it outright, but he said that he didn’t want to be at the Selection. He exploded when I asked him why he didn’t want to be there and I just don’t get it… Does he want this bond or not?”

“I can’t answer for him…” Hunk started slowly, “but he must if he’s willing to go on a date with you after he punched you. I could be wrong, but that doesn’t seem like something an unwilling person would do. Maybe, just give him time? There could be something in his past that’s holding him back.”

The blue witch nodded in agreement. He hadn’t thought of it like that. Keith must have his reasons for being nervous about the bond and maybe they weren’t related to Lance at all. Maybe he just had to wait until Keith was comfortable and made the first move.

Right as he was thinking that, though, his phone suddenly started going off, startling both of them. They looked at each other, neither having any idea who might be calling. Hunk silently urged him to pick it up, and Lance nearly had a heart attack when he saw it was Keith.

“It’s Keith,” he whispered to Hunk, as if the familiar could hear him through the unanswered phone if he spoke too loudly. Outside, he looked a little nervous, but, internally, he was absolutely panicking.

“Go on,” Hunk prompted, just as quiet, but with excitement in his voice, “pick it up!”

The blue witch gulped, pressed the answer key and gingerly held it to his ear. “Hello?” he said, only to be met with silence. The panic started to ebb away, replaced by confusion. “Hello, Keith? Are you there?”

Lance didn’t know how it was possible, but Keith on the phone was even more awkward than Keith in real life. The witch listened to the familiar stumble his way through an apology and he couldn’t help but be endeared by it. All the confusion and hurt from the date slowly began to melt away all because of the familiar’s words, causing hope to ripple through him. A smile was growing on his face without his permission, and when he flicked his eyes to Hunk, he saw that the other witch looked about ready to burst with excitement.

The familiar admitted that feeling comfortable with a bond was hard for him, and Lance couldn’t help feeling like a little part of him broke at the implication. He didn’t exactly know what that implication was, but it was there and it obviously hurt Keith.

 “No, I get it,” he admitted, after Keith opened up, “I’m not always the easiest person to get along with. My mouth begins to run and I can’t catch up with it.” Lance paused, swiping looks at Hunk, who motioned for him to keep going encouragingly “I think this is normal, though, we just met each other and we still have… time.”

The last word sunk in his stomach. He stubbornly tried not to think about the clock ticking down or the tattoo curling around his heart, ready to choke the life out of it. He had time. He _had_ to have time.

 “Yeah, we do,” the familiar agreed, even though Lance could hear a lilt of a question in his voice. Keith didn’t prod further, though, and spoke again “Do you want to try again? Maybe more casual, not as a date, but just over coffee? I know this great place on Henry.”

Lance froze, the hope in him swelling immediately. This was it. Another chance. More than he had ever thought he could hope for. He could laugh, he could sing, but instead he controlled the joy inside him and evenly said, “Yeah, I think I’d like that. Could you text me the address and time?”

“Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading and supporting me through this story! I read every single one of your comments and they absolutely motivate me to keep writing! I've gotten such an awesome response and it's an absolute joy to write. 
> 
> Please consider leaving a kudos and comment!
> 
> What to know what happens faster? Get chapter previews, story updates and my general ramblings on my tumblr @SalParadiseLost
> 
> Thanks,  
> Kay


	6. Disturb the Universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thanks for waiting a bit for this chapter! My betas and I have all started school again, so we're definitely busier! Special thanks to both my betas, Zo and Cyan, who always put up with me!! Hope y'all enjoy this instalment!
> 
> EDIT 22 September 2018: Ch 6 has been updated with better grammar. No scenes have been added or removed.

Chapter 6:  Disturb the Universe.

 

There will be time, there will be time

To prepare a face to meet the faces you must meet;

There will be a time to murder and create

And time for all the works and days of hands

That lift and drop a question on your plate;

Time for you and time for me,

And time yet for a hundred indecisions,

 

-The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot

 

 

**Lance**

 

After the call, Lance felt like he was floating through the air. Happiness filled his entire body and warmth bubbled through him. Every time he thought of Keith’s name (which was a lot) he felt like he could burst out laughing.

Hunk looked positively elated and he was practically squealing at how cute Lance and Keith’s phone call had been. Lance met his eyes and found that he couldn’t hold in his happiness any longer, causing Hunk and himself to start giggling.

Suddenly, there was a ping and Lance scrambled for his phone. He read the words quickly, not dropping his smile for a moment.

“He wants to meet tomorrow for breakfast at ten.” Lance laughed, even though he wasn’t sure what he was laughing at. He just felt so damn thrilled right now.

“Dude, I’m so happy for you,” Hunk said brightly, patting Lance on the shoulder. The blue witch beamed at the contact, his mouth beginning to ache a little from how much he was smiling.

“I know, I can’t believe it,” he said in a whisper, like it was a secret, like it was something precious. 

Eventually, they settled and the initial burst of joy melted into a warm, constant hope.

Was this it? Was this the universe righting itself and finally giving Lance a break?

Did he dare? Did he dare?

Did he dare hope that his life was changing for the better?

“Wow, like even though that was the best thing to happen this entire week. It’s kinda getting late and I think it’s time to go to bed,” Hunk said, breaking through Lance’s thoughts.

“Yeah, I think it’s time for me to hit the hay, too. Leave it to an emotional rollercoaster to tucker you out, am I right?” Lance chuckled, getting up from the bed and stretching languidly. He felt his muscles grow taut and joints give a satisfying pop. He let out a long sigh, feeling like a thousand pounds had just been lifted off his shoulders.

Beside him, Hunk had collected the blankets that they had strewn across the couch and was dutifully putting them back in the closet. He turned off all of the lights except for the one by the front door, which was always on and the room was suddenly cast into a comfortable glow.

Something about the cozy setting made Lance even more tired and he wished Hunk a goodnight before climbing back up the stairs towards his room.

He got there, opened the door, and was greeted by the rooms familiar scents and sights. It was still clean from his earlier tirade and the Christmas lights that he had hung up twinkled. They cast dancing shadows and made the room warm and inviting. He didn’t bother turning on the light and instead fell on to his bed and stared up.

Above him, he had taped pictures of him and his friends to the ceiling. He gazed over the faces of his family, missing them and wishing that he could visit them in Florida. His sisters had to be so big now, and he would bet that Marcos would still love to talk his ear off. It wasn’t like he didn’t contact his family, they called him nearly twice a week and Lance never hesitated to pick up the phone.

But they didn’t call just because they missed him, though, they all knew about the curse and the timer constantly ticking down. That knowledge bled through their tones, their words, the haunting goodbyes as if it were their last. And, sometimes, one of his siblings would start crying. The reasons why changed - sometimes it was after Lance told them at what position the timer was at, sometimes it was because of a nightmare, and sometimes it was just random. It didn’t matter, though, all of it hurt Lance’s heart and made him desperately want to give his family good news for once.

Maybe, now was finally the time that he could.

He had been flagging their calls for the last day. They were always excited after a Selection, always hoping that maybe this time was _the_ time and Lance would finally be able to say that he was bonded with a familiar. Up until now, the answer had always been “no”, but maybe, just maybe the answer this time could be “yes”.

He didn’t want to give his family false hope, though, so he had stayed silent.

He seemed to be getting pretty good at that these days.

Unease twisted inside him when he thought about what he was keeping from Hunk and Pidge. He was so afraid that they would find out or that they would find him dead in his bed one day. But he didn’t want them to worry and he wouldn’t be able to stand the pity in their faces if they found out.

Then, like he did every night, he began praying the words of the counter-curse. The Latin slipped easily from his tongue, melodic and smooth like rippling water. Inside of him, he felt his magic twirl and rise, trying to complete the spell. But like every night, it fell short, unable to do the complicated spell on its own.

Lance expected it, but yet feeling the counter-curse on his lips, so close and so far, dug into his heart and made him feel like he was being torn in two.  

He was accustomed to the feeling, though, and within a few minutes, Lance was gazing at the pictures on the ceiling above him again. The captured smiles comforted him and the memories playing in his head eased his anxiety. He started to drift off, but right before he fell completely to sleep, he felt a twisting around his heart.

He shot up in bed, clutching his blanket to his chest and praying that he had just imagined the feeling. The room around him was silent, but the pounding of his own heart thudded in his ear. His magic swirled inside him like a whirlpool, and the unease of it only made him more fearful.

Just as he was about to begin to relax again, he felt the curse begin to constrict again, sliding around his frantic organ, making his breathes fast and short. The panic slid down his back like ice and he gripped the blanket so hard that he could see the whites of his knuckles.

He vaulted from his bed, ripping his shirt off as he rushed to the mirror. He skidded to a stop in front of it, chest heaving against the invisible binds on his chest. God, it was getting hard to breathe, and the more he tried to draw in air, the harder it became to raise his chest.

He squinted at the mirror and watched as the black curse against his skin twisted. The thorny vines around the clock face grew longer, sharper and the edges of the image disappeared into his chest. But just because he couldn’t see them, didn’t mean he didn’t feel them moving through his body. They slithered around his heart and the feeling of it made him want to retch and cry at the same time.

He focussed on the timer, trying desperately to ignore the vines around his heart, and watching the slow crawl of the hand counting down. He was literally watching his life tick away, and he wanted to scream, but the only sound that came out of him was a broken whimper.

The clock grew nearer to the twelve o’clock and he felt the thorns of the vines press against his heart.

_This was it,_ he realised.

_I’m going to die._

But right before the hand reaching twelve, it slowed and then came to a stop, leaving a sliver of untouched skin. He felt the vines inside him stop moving, their thorns coming to a halt before they pierced his heart.

He took a breath, still feeling the vines around the organ, but not alarmingly tight, and then took another. Each breath reminded him of how close he had come this time.

Finally, his heartrate slowed to normal tempo and he lifted his hand to brush away tears that he didn’t even know he had shed. The panic didn’t ebb away, though, and instead sat at the back of his mind, bubbling in a low simmer.

He was still staring at the mirror unable to tear his eyes away from the clock on his chest and the small strip of unblackened skin that represented his life.

He didn’t have any more time.

He couldn’t wait any longer.

He turned away from the mirror, and threw a shirt back on as if not seeing the curse would mean it was less _there._

He walked out of his room, his footsteps echoing in the dark house. After listening to make sure that Hunk and Pidge weren’t still stirring, he padded over to the main bookshelf of the house and grabbed every book on magic theory and bond spells that he could find.

Luckily, Hunk and Pidge had a particular interest in the subject because of their many projects. Lance loaded his arms up until he could barely lift all the books, and was able to carry them back up the stairs to his room through sheer force of will.

He went back to his bedroom and found it shrouded in darkness. The shadows and flickering lights that had been so inviting earlier now seemed to hide something sinister that could jump out at him any minute. He knew, logically, that the temperature wasn’t any different then when he left the room, but he couldn’t help the shiver that travelled down his back.

He padded over to his desk and dumped the books on top of the flat surface. They landed with a thump, the noise echoing through the room and probably into the hall. It startled him and he paused, waiting to make sure that it didn’t wake either of his roommates.

When he heard nothing, he settled into his seat and looked at the first book, _An Introduction to Witch-Familiar Bonds: Mechanics and Structural Properties._

Right before, he was about to open it, though, he stopped. Keith’s soft smile flitted through his mind and he thought of him and the familiar’s attempt at a bond. Their connection so small and new, could be the beginning of something amazing. They needed time, though. Time to connect again and strengthen their bond, time to resonate with each other’s magics and grow them together. Then, they would be able to remove the curse from Lance and move on with their lives…

But the counter curse required complicated magic, and strong bonds took time. To get their bond up to the point it needed to be to perform the counter-curse could take weeks or months.

And he couldn’t wait any longer.

Because he was almost out of time.

And at this moment, his only hope seemed to be in a spell.

He turned back to the book and opened its cover.

“Chapter 1: The Magi-Molecular Properties of Bond Magic” He repeated as he read the title to the first chapter. The familiar monotony of textbook reading set into him instantly and he fought to focus.

He wasn’t just reading to learn now. He was hoping that his answer was hidden somewhere in this book.

It had to be.

***

 

He jolted awake the next morning, grunted as he startled into reality. The surrounding light glared into his eyes and he squinted instantly.

_God dammit, what was going on?_ He thought to himself as he struggled to remember why he had fallen asleep on his desk last night.

He started to take a deep breath, but stopped halfway through, when he felt the strangle of the cursed vines against his heart. A familiar panic washed into him and he couldn’t help touching a hand to the dark patch of skin.

The memory of last night slid down him like a block of ice along his spine.

He scrambled to collect the papers strewn out on his desk and read through the messy notes he had written to himself last night. Words like _resonance, familiar,_ and _ferality_ flashed through his mind as he rapidly read them until finally he found the spell he was looking for.

_A spell for temporary bond strength_

At first, those words didn’t seem very ground breaking and Lance had almost passed by the spell and ignored it, but then his eyes had flicked to the short description of the spell:

_This spell temporarily strengthens a weak or newly formed bond, so that more complicated magic is possible. Again, the effects are highly temporary and will not last longer than a couple minutes. Caution is advised._

The description continued to outline the mechanics and the possible side-effects of the spell, but Lance stopped reading.

His heart caught in his throat as he realised what a spell like this meant.

Because this… this spell it could be the answer to all his problems. If he could complete it while, he and Keith were connected, then he could perform the counter-curse and Lance would be free.

Then, he could finally _live_ his life. He could be alive without the fear of suddenly dropping dead. He could call his family and not hear their thinly veiled worry.

He could take time with Keith and form a proper bond and finally have the witch-familiar relationship he always dreamed of having.

He took a deep breath and made up his mind.

This was his only option now.

“Hey, Lance, are you gonna come out any time soon?” Pidge’s voice startled him and he hastily tried to shove papers and books to the side. Frantically trying to make it look like he hadn’t spent the night panic-reading.

“I, um, uh, yeah,” he mumbled out, still trying to cram books into an already stuffed bookshelf. Suddenly, he dropped one on his hand and let out a loud yelp.

There was a rustling at the door, and it creaked open. Pidge popped her head in, her expression caught between curiosity, concern and amusement. When she saw Lance, dressed in only a pair of blue boxers and an old tank top, she deadpanned.

“Lance, you idiot, it’s nine thirty.”

He furrowed his brow and tilted his head a little. “Yeah?” he questioned. Really, nine thirty was pretty early for him to wake up on a weekend. He didn’t see why Pidge was calling him out on it now.

She rolled her eyes and her wings fluttered in exasperation. “Didn’t you promise to meet your familiar at ten o’clock, dumbass?”

Everything in Lance’s brain came to a halt as he processed Pidge’s words and then suddenly it started whirling like everything was it fast motion.

“Oh my god, Pidge, I overslept.” he wailed, jolting from his seat at the desk. “And he’s not my familiar,” he snapped, though his mind helpfully added _yet._ He ignored his traitorous mind and friend and put on the first outfit he could find. Goddammit, why was frantically getting ready becoming such a thing with him?

“I noticed,” the bird snickered from the doorway, leaning against it with a hand on her hip. 

Lance glared at her, but didn’t let himself be distracted by the sassy familiar. He bolted into the bathroom, did the quickest morning routine he had ever done, and came out hopefully not looking like death warmed over.

Pidge was still watching him, not even trying to hide the amusement on her face, and full on laughed when he emerged ‘prepared’.

“Really, that’s what you’re going to wear, sunshine.”

His gut dropped and he looked down only to realise that he was wearing the yellow and orange ensemble that he had worn to the Selection. He looked back to the room, internally debating whether he had time to change.

“Just go, Lance,” Pidge said from his side, basically reading his mind, “maybe he wouldn’t notice.”

Lance groaned because, like, how could anyone _not_ notice someone dressed in yellow and orange? He sprinted down the stairs anyway, ignoring the crying fashion sense in him. He passed Hunk who was puttering around the kitchen and yelled out a “bye guys!” before closing the front door.

He got into his car and tried not to panic when he saw the car’s timer read: 9:52 am. God, he hoped he wasn’t going to be too late. He plugged the address Keith gave him last night into his follow and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the coffeehouse was only 12 minutes away.

He started his car and followed the directions that his phone chirped out at him. As he drove, he zoned out and thought back to the spell he had memorised the night before. Immediately when he started thinking about it, a now familiar panic rose in his throat and he had to fight not to mentally run through scenarios in which his plan went wrong.

Yes, he knew it was possible, but at this point he simply could not afford to think that way. He needed to go into this confidently if he wanted to get this right.

He prayed that he could get this right.

Finally, his GPS reported that he had reached his destination and Lance pulled into the small café’s parking lot. He navigated into a tiny parking space and hastily tried to fix his hair before he got out. He snuck a look at the car’s clock, it read 10:06 am.

Six minutes late, that wasn’t too bad. Hell, that might be within the realm on almost on time as far as he was concerned. Never mind that he looked like the sun threw up on him. _Again._

He got out of his car and immediately spotted Keith’s shiny red motorcycle. It told Lance that the familiar was already inside and probably waiting for him at this very moment.

That meant that this was Lance’s last chance to back out, to decide that he wouldn’t force this spell on Keith.

He began walking toward the café door and opened it. It jingled to announce his entrance and, almost immediately he found the familiar patiently waiting for him. Keith smiled when their eyes met and the unease in Lance’s stomach rose.

The memory of Keith looking scared and cornered in the restaurant came to the surface. A little voice inside of him asked: _is this the right thing to do?_

He didn’t have the answer.

He only hoped that Keith wouldn’t feel too betrayed.

 

**Keith**

 

Keith slumped back in the café’s chair, trying to ignore the way that the wood dug into his lower back. He shifted again, trying to redistribute his weight more comfortably, but his anxious nerves didn’t let him stay in one position for long. He kept flicking his eyes to the door, waiting to see Lance.

He didn’t know how it was possible, but he had become an even bigger ball of nerves. He was basically tripping over himself coming to this meet-up (which he specifically _hadn’t_ been calling a date). Maybe it was because he had even less time to prepare, or maybe it was because he didn’t have Shiro and Allura psyching him up like last time.

If he really admitted it to himself, though, he knew exactly why he was so nervous.

The last date he had went on with Lance (although, this was most definitely _not_ a date) had ended up in a complete disaster all because of him.

He was the one who had freaked out and snapped.

He was the one who had gotten up and left the table.

Hell, he was the one who had punched Lance in the first place.

Everything single time, it had been his fault and he was bound and determined not to let that happen again. There was too much on the line and he knew that his time was growing short.

He remembered the conversation with his brother that morning.

*******

Keith paced in front of the television, nervously tugging at a piece of lint on his shirt. God, he hoped he looked fine. He had had to choose from clothes that he had at Shiro’s place and it didn’t give him an especially large selection.

On the other side of the living room, Shiro sat on the couch with a cup of coffee in his hand. He looked especially rumpled, feathers completely out of place and hair sticking up in all directions. If Keith wasn’t so worried about the meet up, he definitely would have taken a picture and sent it to Allura (consequences be damned).

“You look fine,” Shiro muttered from behind his mug. Keith didn’t spare him a glance or stop his pacing, but his ears did flick in his brother’s direction. He took another sip of coffee, and then put the drink on the table next to the couch.

“Keith,” Shiro said firmly, halting the cat familiar’s pacing, “are you sure that this is a good idea?” he edged, voice filled with concerned doubt.

Keith’s eyes flicked to the floor, and he picked at a claw. He had been asking himself the same question ever since Lance had agreed to see him again. He wasn’t blind, he saw the irony of the situation: one day having Lance beg to meet up, rejecting him, and then immediately begging Lance to come back. He was also aware of how quickly this was moving and it was hard to believe how much his life had changed within these three days.

A part of him couldn’t help but worry if maybe they were going too fast.

“No,” he admitted to Shiro, “but what choice do I have?”

The threat of being taken away from Shiro or turning feral still loomed large between the two familiars.

Shiro nodded, acknowledging the tension, and spoke again. “Yeah, I know, but surely you have more time than a couple days.”

“I don’t know,” Keith chuckled darkly, “at the rate that I’m fucking up, it could take a few months and I definitely don’t have a few months.”

“Don’t speak like that,” Shiro snapped, startling Keith and making him meet his brother’s eyes. “You aren’t fucking things up and even if Lance isn’t your witch, we’ll figure something else out.”

Keith knew his brother was trying to be encouraging, but he couldn’t even bring himself to think of what would happen if Lance didn’t work out.

Shiro must have seen it in his eyes because the bird familiar sighed heavily. “Look Keith, this is a tense situation and I know that’s it’s easy to start panicking about it, but you can’t let it get to you. We have to stay calm because that’s the only way we’re going to figure this out. Remember what do I always say?” he prompted and Keith couldn’t help a small laugh.

“Patience yields focus,” he answered with a smile.

“That’s right, patience yields focus and right now we need all the focus we can get.”

The words calmed Keith and he finally stopped pacing, standing in the middle of the living room. He looked at Shiro, suddenly feeling like he was eleven years old again.

“What do I do, Shiro? Should I tell Lance that I need more time? Should I wait?

“I don’t know,” his brother said gently, “I think that’s for you to decide.”

Keith was silent, weighing his options. He looked down at the phone in his hand, remembering how hopeful Lance had sounded on the phone last night.

Lance’s hope alone made Keith want to go, but he also couldn’t shake a small part of him that told him that this was the right thing.

“I’m going to go,” he decided, before walking over to where his motorcycles keys were. He grabbed them and pressed the familiar metal into the palm of his hand. He walked to the door, and right before he opened it, he took one last look at his brother.

Shiro met his eyes from over the couch and quirked an eyebrow. Suddenly, he was hit with just how grateful he was to have someone like his brother in his life.

“I’ll see you later today,” he said, not voicing any of the sentiment he had been feeling.

Shiro nodded, “I’ll see you later. Drive safe, Keith.”

***

Now sitting at the café, Keith couldn’t help wondering if maybe his brother was correct. Maybe he was pushing this too hard and too fast and making it destined to fail. Maybe his eagerness was scaring Lance off.

God, what if the boy didn’t show up at all?

Keith flicked his eyes to the clock that hung on the café’s wall. It read: 10:02. Well, that was only two minutes past the time they had agreed to meet up, he guessed he could give Lance a bit more time.

It took an additional two minutes of waiting before Keith started panicking again.

Just as he was about to convince himself that Lance wasn’t coming at all, the bell in the café’s door jingled and the blue witch stepped forward.

Keith sucked in a breath as he laid eyes on the witch. God, he was even more handsome in the sunlight. He looked wonderful, and had even dressed in that yellow and orange outfit that had drawn Keith in that first day they had met. He wondered if Lance even realised what seeing the witch dressed in his element’s colours did to the familiar. He looked like a child of the sun like that, and Keith’s own internal fire keened in appreciation. The familiar fought not to chicken out as he watched Lance begin to scan the area for him.

When their eyes met, the witch instantly brightened and he smiled at Keith as he approached.

“Hey, Keith,” the witch greeted, standing next to the familiar with his hands on his hips.

“Hi, Lance,” the familiar said, trying not to make his words come out in a mumble.

Lance chuckled, and gestured towards the cashier. “Why don’t we order? I’m starving and everything looks delicious, so you gotta tell me what to get.”

Keith nodded, “yeah, I can do that,” and began to lead the witch to the counter. They talked a little about food and Keith ordered them both lemon muffins, which he swore were a speciality of the house. They came back with steaming hot drinks and sat back down at the table.

“So, sorry I was late,” Lance said casually and Keith brushed it off like waiting those few extra minutes hadn’t caused him to almost have a heart attack.

“It’s fine, you weren’t that late.”

Lance shook his head. “Yeah, I overslept this morning and had to get ready in a rush, that’s why I look like a freaking sunflower by the way, I didn’t have time to choose my outfit.”

Keith stopped sipping his drink and give Lance an appreciative head to toe gaze. So Lance had done this on accident… God, he didn’t want to know what would happen if Lance put his mind to making Keith speechless.

“I like your outfit, though,” the familiar mumbled when he realised he hadn’t talked for a while and the witch was giving him a curious look.

The witch’s cheek reddened, but he hid it by laughing into his hand, a smile obvious behind his fingers.

“You _like_ it?” he practically squealed and the high pitch sound made Keith press his ears against his head. “Oh my god, do you have no fashion sense? Yellow totally makes my skin look weird.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Keith snapped firmly, his face heating up when he realised that he probably shouldn’t sound so passionate about something so small. He should probably stop now, but his big stupid mouth kept on going. “It makes you look like the sun, warm and radiant.”

Immediately, when he said the words, his entire face flushed and turned his face away to keep the witch from seeing. Beside him, Lance was laughing softly until slowly the sound trickled out. Keith didn’t dare turn his face back until he felt a finger tapping against his shoulder.

“Hello? Anyone still in there?” Lance teased beside him, and Keith silently prayed that he would just sink into the floor.

“I’m sorry,” the familiar mumbled, “that was weird wasn’t it?”

“I mean kinda,” Lance admitted, but before Keith could start feeling too bad about himself, he saw Lance’s affectionate smile. “It was also kinda insanely cute.”

“Oh, I, um, thanks,” he managed to get out, silently cursing himself for not being able to put a coherent sentence together.  He smoothly took a sip of his coffee in order to stop himself from word vomiting again. He was such a human disaster.

“Shit, I didn’t break you, right? Pidge and Hunk would kill me if I broke you.”

Keith’s ears pricked up at the unfamiliar names and he turned his face so he could meet the witch’s eyes. “Pidge and Hunk?”

“Oh, you probably haven’t met them, but they’re my roommates. Hunk is this earth witch whose crazy good at manipulating metals. Pidge is a bird familiar who also has earth magic. It favours electricity, though, she uses it to power inventions they create together.”

“Are they bonded?” Keith asked, a little apprehension slipping into his voice.

Lance must not have heard it, though, since he kept on with the same tone. “Yeah, they bonded years ago and they’ve grown their bond so much that now it’s like crazy strong. They have some of the best magic resonance that I’ve ever seen.”

Keith’s heart gave a little jump when he heard Lance describing his friends’ bond in awe. It told the familiar just how much the witch respected a bond and the trust it took to form a strong one. It showed Keith that he was making the right decision in trusting Lance.

“Do you think that our bond could become something like that?” Keith asked in a whisper. There was silence between them, and the familiar just began to think that Lance didn’t hear him, before the witch answered.

“Yeah, I think it could be if we gave it time.” There was something hollow in Lance’s voice that confused Keith, but then Lance’s tone lightened again. “I don’t know about you, but that first connection we made was pretty great.”

Keith nodded quickly agreeing, “Yeah, it was I don’t know how to describe it, but you magic felt really…” he fought to find a word, “nice” he finished lamely.

“Yours too. It was warm like a fireplace and inviting, somehow?”

The words were vague, but Keith knew exactly what Lance had meant. There was something within that first connection, something in the witch’s magic that calmed the frantic mess of Keith’s head. It drove the familiar towards the witch, telling him that that was where he was meant to be.

The knowledge of that scared him, but he couldn’t get over how _right_ it was.

“Hey, Keith,” Lance said slowly, immediately drawing the familiar’s attention. “Do you think you want to try to make a connection again?”

The familiar froze, unsure of what to say or do. Because, a part of him screamed “yes” and pined for the feeling of that cool magic fluttering against his. But, memories of the forced bonds and the paralyzing spells, held him back. They roared in his mind, and he fought to ignore them.

Because now was the time to move past this. He had to and he desperately wanted to leave his past behind him and start something new.

Something with Lance, perhaps.

And so, he nodded, silently chasing a hope. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Cool. Let’s go outside,” Lance said shortly, getting out of his chair. Keith raised an eyebrow and looked back at the muffin he had only half eaten.

“Can’t we do it here?”

The witch’s eyes flickered around the room, looking at the other people in the café. “I mean, yeah, but I think I would be a little more comfortable outside.”

That was a little strange, but Keith gave the witch a comforting smile. After all, he was nervous too.

“Sure,” the familiar said, as he slid off his chair and began following Lance outside.

He blinked when he walked into the sunlight, the brightness momentarily hurting his eyes. When he was finally able to focus again, he looked over to Lance. The witch was scanning the parking lot.

“Empty enough for you?” Keith joked, hoping that humour would ease some of the witch’s obvious nerves.

The other boy chuckled, though the sound was harsh with anxiety. “Yeah,” he said before holding out a hand, “you ready?”

The familiar grasped the hand in front of him. “Yes.”

Then, together, they opened up their magics and let the two begin to flow between each other.

Keith felt the constant flame that was always inside him begin to reach out to the foreign magic, warily brushing against it. The water magic tentatively met his, trickling like a small stream. It quelled the sparks of ferality which flared in Keith’s magic, and let him breath free of them for the first time.

He couldn’t explain it. But the blue witch’s magic, made him feel complete in a way that he never thought he could. And even, though the bond was tiny- like a string of thread between two strangers- he could feel the potential and damn did he want to see where this could go.

He turned to Lance, expecting to see a similar look of joy on the witch’s face. But instead, his eyes were glaring at the floor and his mouth was caught in a grimace. He looked almost like he was in pain.

“Lance? Lance, what’s wrong?” he questioned urgently, eyes flicking constantly over the witch’s features trying to figure it out. Inside, he his magic drew back a little.

Lance met his eyes, torment obvious. “I’m sorry,” he whispered and before Keith could react, the witch began chanting a spell.

Everything in him ground to a halt as he felt the witch’s magic tighten against his.

no

No

NO

And he screamed.

He screamed like an animal and thrashed against Lance’s hand that was still holding his. His world broke around him. His vision swirled. He couldn’t hear the words of the spell through the panicked thoughts of his own mind.

His magic rose within him, catching like a forest fire and blazed against the blue witch’s magic. The water magic instantly retreated, and the hold on Keith’s magic disappeared.

The familiar hurled his body away from the witch’s, tripping over his own feet and landed harshly against the pavement. Little bits of rock cut into his cheek, but he ignored the pain to whip around to meet the witch’s eyes.

“Oh my god! Keith, are you alright? What the hell just happened?” The witch’s eyes were wide with concern, and seeing it sickened Keith because he knew that it couldn’t be true. None of this was real. The blue witch was too good to be real, and now he was showing his true colours.

“You fucking bastard,” Keith growled, getting up from the floor and baring his teeth at the witch. The venom in his glare caused the other boy to freeze, his eyes widened in confusion.

“I thought you were different!” he shouted at the witch, all his anger and frustration and betrayal pouring out. The words rang through the parking lot, and made the other boy cower.

Then, the hurt came, rising like a tide, filling every part of Keith’s body. He shook to hold back tears, refusing to let the witch have the satisfaction of seeing them.

 “And you betrayed me.” His voice breaking along with his heart as he said the words.

He was such a fool, an idiot, a worthless pathetic thing pretending to be a familiar.

He should have known this was coming.

The witch started to talk, but before he could get more than two words out, the familiar turned and walked to his motorcycle. The steps were heavy and behind him he could hear the witch calling his name, but he refused to look back. A feeling of numbness burrowed in his heart.

He got on the seat and began to drive, just like he had last night.

He didn’t bother trying to hold back the sobs this time.

 

When he got back to the Garrison housing, he didn’t even bother trying to decide which apartment to go to. It was like he was moving on auto-pilot and found himself at Shiro’s door before he even realised where he was going.

The front door was open and he saw his brother laying exactly in the same spot he was in not even an hour before.

He could feel tears rolling down his face when his brother turned to look at him.

“Keith, what happened?” Shiro said urgently, jolting up from the couch. Keith fell into Shiro’s arms and hiccupped a broken sound against his chest. He felt Shiro’s wings press against his back and their feeling of security helped him catch his breath.

Finally, he lifted his head and with a whimper said, “Lance tried to force a bond on me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith are such boneheads sometimes. They just need to communicate more, god.  
> And yeah, for you heart broken people, there is a happy ending! Lance didn't actually try to force a bond (remeber exactly which spell he used), but poor Keith is freaking out.  
> THESE BABIES NEED ALL THE HUGS
> 
> Thanks for reading!!  
> If you want to yell at me for what happened check out my Tumblr @SalParadiseLost! I post chapter updates, general ramblings, and previews there!
> 
> Please consider leaving a comment or kudos (if you haven't kudos-ed already)


	7. The Love of a Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro has something to say.

Chapter 7: The Love of a Brother

 

**Shiro**

 

Shiro had seen his brother through his worst times and, despite that, he still loved him more than life itself. The kitten had entered his life nearly a decade ago, and it was hard to believe that in that short time, Keith had captured his entire heart.

* * *

Shiro walked down the hall with his wings tucked primly behind his back. His steps were measured, his uniform was regulation, and his performance had been flawless ever since he had been promoted to captain a couple months ago.

In short, he had done nothing wrong and he had no idea why he was being called to the commander’s office.

Despite that, he still felt like he was being called into the principal’s office and he couldn’t help the bubble of nervousness in his stomach.

He knocked on the Commander’s door and heard him call “come-in” before walking inside.

“Hello, Commander Iverson,” Shiro said firmly with a salute.

Iverson dismissed the formality and waved him further inside. As he stepped forward, he noticed a young familiar curled up on one of the high-backed chairs. Shiro looked him over, instantly noticing the ears pinned back on his head and the annoyed twitching of his tail. _So a cat-mix then_ , Shiro thought, though the boy looked hardly old enough to be considered a cat yet. He was so young, still a kitten if the fuzz on his ears was anything to go by. And, despite his youth, he was giving both of the men one of the fiercest glares Shiro had ever seen as he flexed his claws into the leather of the seat.

Shiro suppressed a smile, imagining how annoyed Iverson would be when he found claw marks in his chair.

“Officer Shirogane, thank you for coming so quickly. I have urgent matters to discuss with you.” Iverson said as he folded his hands in front of him and nodded for Shiro to take a seat.

Shiro sat down with a quick glance at the other familiar. The cat was now staring down at the seat and Shiro could tell that he wanted nothing more than to bolt out of the room. Shiro held back a grimace and, not for the first time, wondered why the familiar was here and why he looked about an inch away from murdering both of them. He flexed his claws further into the leather and it let out a scratchy sound.

 “Stop that.” Iverson barked at the boy, causing him to freeze. The familiar in the chair whipped his head around to glare at the older man. The kitten looked angry, but Shiro caught the way that he tried to curl into a smaller ball and the slight quivering of his flattened ears.

That was when it hit him, the familiar was afraid, maybe even terrified, and seeing that look on someone so young absolutely broke his heart.

He fought the urge to sweep the boy into his arms and take him away from whatever was frightening him.

But this boy wasn’t his.

And he didn’t know what was going on.

That didn’t stop the little voice inside that whispered _protect_ , even his magic, usually so calm, was rumbling warily and sparking against his heart.

“Now, Officer Shirogane, I’m sure your wondering why you’re here today.” Iverson said after giving the boy a warning look. He shrunk back more, looking even smaller. “The familiar sitting next to you has been recently identified as one with incredible magical potential. We found him through one of the Garrison Identification Programmes in an orphanage in Texas and brought him here a couple days ago. The tests we’ve performed on him show that he has more potential than we’ve seen in a long time. In fact,” Iverson paused and his eyes flickered over Shiro’s wings, “The last familiar we saw with so much potential was you.” He gave Shiro a rare smile and a little bit of pride rose in Shiro’s chest.

“Because of that,” Iverson continued “the Garrison has recently decided to take him on as one of their wards. He will be enrolled in the Garrison’s new class of familiars and go through all the appropriate training, so that he can be matched with one of our witches.”

Shiro nodded, silently glad that the familiar in the chair was going to get the chance he deserved. He still wasn’t sure why _he_ was here though.

“Sir,” he said when he saw that Iverson wasn’t going to continue, “with all due respect, what is my place in this situation?”

Iverson gave a small chuckle and gestured to the familiar, who flinched at the movement.

“When the Garrison takes on a ward, we always pair them with an older Guardian who will oversee their care and progress in the Programme. You have been chosen to look over this charming, young familiar.” The kitten in the chair hissed when he was mentioned and Iverson gave him an unimpressed expression before looking back at Shiro again. “Congratulations.” He said dryly.

Shiro didn’t say anything for a long time, and then smiled widely before reaching across the desk to shake Iverson’s hand. He couldn’t believe it. He had been accepted to be a Guardian! He had been applying to be one ever since he had passed the age restriction of 18. He never thought he would actually be accepted.

“Thank you, sir,” he said breathlessly, trying to hold back a laugh of joy. Inside, he was buzzing with excitement because he had just been given the greatest gift he had ever received. Inside him, his magic was flashing wildly, bursting with just as much excitement as he felt. “This opportunity, this chance, I just can’t…” he trailed off and turned towards the curled up familiar, “thank you.” He said again, though he wasn’t sure who he was thanking.

The familiar was giving him an unreadable expression, his face perfectly blank and composed, but Shiro was glad to see he wasn’t trembling anymore.

“Oh, uh, well,” Iverson said, surprise colouring his voice. “I’m glad that you are excited about the assignment. The young familiar’s belongings are in his backpack and here,” he passed Shiro a set of keys, “are your new living quarters. He will live with you until he has found a witch to bond with. Now, I’ll let you two go and get comfortable in your new arrangements. I expect to see him in class by Monday though.”

“Yes, of course,” Shiro agreed, standing from his seat and turning towards the familiar who was still studying him closely. He gave the boy a smile, not bothered when he didn’t smile back. He crouched down, coming eye-level with the boy.

“Hey, bud,” he whispered kindly, “looks like it’s going to be you and me.” He paused realising that he had never introduced himself, “My name is Takashi Shirogane, but all my friends call me Shiro. What’s your name?”

The familiar didn’t answer and only stared at him with those huge, purple eyes. He could still see a hint of fear in them, and he vowed to get rid of that forever.

“That’s alright. You can tell me when you feel like it.” He said, reaching out a hand, “for now, why don’t we see what your new room looks like.”

The kitten kept giving him a wary look, but he slowly took Shiro’s hand while sliding out of the chair. The little boy’s hand was warm in his and that feeling filled him with more happiness than he would have thought possible. He gently, squeezed it, causing the boy to look up at him. Shiro scooped his backpack off the ground and swung it over his shoulder.

“Ok, why don’t we get going?” he said, gently leading the other familiar out the door with him. The cat hurried to catch-up with Shiro’s much longer strides, so he decided to slow his pace down.

The familiar took one last look back at Commander Iverson, and then headed out the door with Shiro without another glance.

They walked quietly down the hall. Shiro was familiar enough with the building to know instantly where their new apartment was and he guided the boy there. As he walked, he shifted the backpack on his shoulder, frowning when he felt how light it was.

“Is this all you have or should I be expecting more boxes to show up at my door?” Shiro asked, looking down

The cat shook his head, eyes fixed to the floor.

Shiro raised an eyebrow, stopping in the middle of the hallway. At the abrupt halt, the cat jolted and nervously flicked his eyes up to Shiro, then immediately back to the ground.

“Hey bud,” Shiro said gently, kneeling in front of the boy. The familiar shifted anxiously, and Shiro noticed that he was frantically toying with the hem of his jacket. “You know that you’re allowed to talk, right?”

The kitten looked him deep in the eyes, carefully searching to make sure that the other wasn’t lying to him. Shiro kept his face kind and open and was rewarded by a scratchy voice.

“Really?”

“Yes, of course.” Shiro assured, “why wouldn’t I allow you to speak?”

The familiar paused before answering. “The other man told me to shut up. He said I was asking too many questions.”

A blaze of anger lit in his chest and Shiro fought to let it not show on his face. No wonder the boy had been terrified, who knows how many times he had been yelled at.

“I promise you, you can ask as many questions as you want and I’ll try to answer all of them if I can.”

The boy didn’t look too sure, but he hesitantly began spoke again. “Where am I?”

The innocent question turned the slight anger in Shiro into a fury because of the implication. What kind of institution took a little boy away from his home, flew him a thousand miles away and then yelled at him for asking what was happening?

He remembered how terrified the kid looked, curled into the tightest ball he could manage and flinching at their every movement.

God, did he even know why he was here? Did he even _want_ to be here? Was there someone out there who was missing their little boy?

Shiro didn’t want to believe that the Institution would do something like this, but at the same time he knew it was true. The laws around familiar acquisition and upkeep were iffy at best and tainted by a long history of belief that familiars were less than human because of their animal traits.

A lot of progress had been made, yes, but situations like this weren’t unheard of, especially around familiars with a huge potential. It still made Shiro sick, though.

“You’re at the Garrison Academy,” Shiro said, answering the boy and desperately keeping the anger from his voice, “It’s a special school where familiars and witches work together to do great things.”

Shiro paused, before carefully asking his own question. “Do you have a family I can call to let them know that you’re here? I’m sure they would be very proud of you.”

The boy tensed before shaking his head. “I’m an orphan. I don’t have a family” He said simply.

He didn’t think it was possible, but Shiro’s heart broke a little more for the boy and he desperately wanted to scoop him into a hug. He settled for ruffling the boy’s hair and standing up. He began walked, the familiar falling into pace behind.

“Well, not anymore.” He said firmly, looking back at the boy and offering his hand again, “I’m going to be your family now.”

The familiar looked at him with wide, disbelieving eyes and scrambled to catch up so he could grab the offered hand. He didn’t say anything, but Shiro decided not to push him.

They walked together until they reached the new apartment and Shiro opened the door. The apartment was dusty, but spacious and already furnished with a couple of scattered pieces of furniture. He set down the familiar’s small bag and walked around the space with a critical eye.

“Well, it isn’t a mansion, but I think it will do.” He said, while opening some of the doors. The kitten stood in the middle of the entryway, nervously shifting his weight. Shiro continued talking. “It has a nice kitchen… Good lighting… Oh! And here’s the master bedroom. I’ll be here. Oh and look! A bedroom across the hall. That one can be yours. We will have to get you some sheets though and some more clothes and maybe a-“

“Do you really want me?” the boy’s voice cut across Shiro’s thought process, freezing his appraisal of the room. He turned to look at the boy who looked so tiny and vulnerable in his oversized jacket and ill-fitting pants. He also looked about two seconds away from bursting into tears.

“I know that I was dumped on you.” He said frantically, his voice edged with a sob, “but, but… you said that you would be my family. I don’t understand, do you really want me?” Tears were now flowing silently down the boy’s face and Shiro couldn’t help it anymore.

He swept the boy into hug, feeling that small body shuttering against his and the tears dampen his shoulder. He was surprised when the kid didn’t shy away from the contact, but instead gripped him like his life depended on it and curled in as close as he could get. Shiro rubbed the boy’s back soothingly, trying to calm the boy’s sobs.

He leaned in and rested his chin on the top of the kitten’s head. The boy’s ears flicked against Shiro’s cheek. “I want you more than I’ve wanted anything and I’d like to be your brother if you’d let me,” he murmured.

The familiar turned his face towards Shiro, and, for the first time, he saw the boy’s tiny smile. “Yeah,” he whispered, “I’d like that.”

Shiro squeezed the boy tightly and he could hear a faint purr coming from the familiar, so soft that he wouldn’t have been able to hear it if he hadn’t been pressing the boy against his chest.

After a couple more moments, the cat familiar pulled back, breaking the hug. He kept ahold of Shiro’s hand as the older familiar stood up.

“My name is Keith.” He murmured, and Shiro smiled down at him.

“Hello, Keith,”

 

 

That was the first night in a long story of how Keith managed to capture Shiro’s heart. Everything wasn’t perfect- there were times that Shiro realised that he had no idea what he was doing and times that Keith spat and hissed, angry for reasons he didn’t know. Sometimes they fought and hurt each other with words they didn’t mean. Sometimes they blamed each other for things out of their control.

Shiro didn’t dwell on those times, though. He focussed on the good: the time that Keith had called Shiro his brother for the first time, the times that Keith had laughed, free and unburdened, the times that Keith had fallen asleep against Shiro’s chest, purring as loud as a thunderstorm.

In that first blissful year, everything was nearly perfect until Keith got paired with his first witch.

Shiro remembered how proud he had been at first and how excited Keith had been.

 

 

The kitten was practically buzzing with excitement, bouncing around the room and hurriedly stuffing his things into a backpack.

“Will I need this?” Keith said, while holding up a toothbrush. Shiro rolled his eyes, leaning against the bathroom doorframe.

“Yes, Keith, you’ll need your toothbrush,” he said with a huff of amusement. The cat familiar shoved it into the bag along with a hairbrush. His ears were happily perked forward and his tail was whipping against his legs.

“Oh, no!” he yelped, “I forgot my hippo!” he sprinted past Shiro and back into his room. His brother followed him, watching the boy dig through his belongings to triple-check that he had his beloved stuffed animal.

It had been a year since Keith had moved in and changed Shiro’s entire life. In that time, Shiro had carefully coaxed Keith’s personality out of his grumpy little shell. What had once been a hissing, constantly scared familiar was now a happy, cheerful little boy who was curious about everything and got into way more trouble than someone his size should.

Shiro couldn’t say how many times he had had to rescue Keith after he accidently got himself stuck in a high place.

And now, it was time for Keith to move on to the next stage in his life- a life bonded to a witch. It was an important phase in Keith’s life, even if his paring was a little unconventional.

The Garrison had announced that Keith was to be paired three days prior. They told him that they had been closely monitoring Keith’s magic and found a potential bondmate in the young son of one of the Institution’s board members. The other boy was older than Keith, but apparently their magics had amazing resonance between them. The Garrison had confirmed the pairing, and now, like all familiars, Keith was being sent to live with his new witch.

Shiro was happy for Keith. However, he couldn’t help the ache in his heart when he imagined a life without the little fuzzball. As he watched their apartment get emptier and emptier, he desperately wished that he had a little more time with his brother.

_No, Shiro, don’t think like that._ He chided himself, _This is happy, You’re supposed to be happy._

“Takashi,” Keith’s small voice broke Shiro out of his thoughts and he looked down. The kitten was gripping the edge of his shirt and looking at him with watery eyes. His ears were flat on his head and he chewed his lip nervously. “Takashi, will you still keep being my brother when I’m gone?”

“Hey, hey” he hushed the boy, kneeling to be eye-level. He swept his wings forward, bringing them around Keith’s body, and smiled when he felt his brother leaning into the touch. “Why would you think that we would stop being brothers?”

Keith sniffled, and hurriedly wiped his face with his sleeve. “That’s what happened with the other homes,” he said in a tiny, broken voice, “They stopped wanting to talk to me after I moved away.”

Shiro leaned forward, rubbing the boy’s back and drying his tears. He knew about Keith’s history, the long string of foster homes and orphanages that gave him away because of behaviour issues. He didn’t know why they let him go because, yes, Keith could be difficult sometimes, but never enough to warrant being dumped at another orphanage.

It was no wonder that Keith had abandonment issues and worried about whether Shiro was going to disown him.

“Keith,” Shiro said firmly, turning the kitten so they were locking eyes, “you will never stop being my little brother. We’re family, so you’re stuck with me,” he said with a smile and Keith chuckled softly, “If you ever need me, I’ll always be there for you. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“So don’t worry. We’ll always be brothers and if you ever want to talk you can just call me on your phone. You packed your phone, right?”

Keith’s eyes popped open and his mouth shaped into an “o”. “Shiro!” he yelped, “I almost forgot my phone!”

The cat familiar broke out of Shiro’s wings and sprinted back into his room. The older familiar laughed at the little black blur and silently prayed that Keith would be ready when the Garrison officials came to pick him up. They should be here soon, they were schedule to come at 11:30.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

Well, speak of the devil…

“Keith,” he shouted towards the kitten’s room, “They’re here!”. He opened the door and greeted the other Garrison employees. The cat familiar raced out of the room, dragging behind a suitcase almost the size of him.

“I’m ready!” he declared, puffing his chest proudly in front of the Garrison women. They laughed and one of them gently patted him on the head.

“You ready to go, sweetie?” She asked kindly.

“Yep,” he chirped and let one of the women take his suitcase for him. He began following them, but right before he went through the door, he stopped. “Wait, I almost forgot!”

He turned on his heel and practically threw himself into Shiro’s arms. “I love you, Takashi,” he whispered, hugging him tightly.

“I love you, too” Shiro said too, hugging Keith with his wings and his arms. The kitten was purring so much that Shiro could feel the vibration in his own chest.

God, he would miss these moments.

“Don’t worry,” he said as he pulled away from the boy, his hands still on Keith’s shoulders, “I’ll come visit you in a week and then you can show me all the cool new things you’re learning, alright?”

“Yeah,” Keith whispered and Shiro turned the boy so he was facing the two Garrison women.

“Go on, your witch is waiting.” He murmured as he watched one of the women take Keith’s hand and begin to lead him out the door. Shiro watched his small back until the door was closed. He cried quietly for a couple minutes, already missing the boy who had become his brother, but soon he went to pack up his own things. He was moving back into individual housing now that he wasn’t a Guardian anymore.

His heart hurt, but silently the apartment emptied.

A week later, Shiro had went to visit Keith.

Twenty minutes after that, his visit turned into a rescue mission

 

* * *

 

That first night he had gotten Keith back, he promised that he’d never let anything bad happen to the kitten again.

But it happened again.

And again.

And again.

Again.

Each time had Keith crying in his arms, both of them powerless against the situation they found themselves in. Shiro would card his hand through Keith’s hair, and promise everything would be alright, even as a dark future loomed in the distance.

This time though, for the first time in a long time, when Shiro sent Keith to a witch he had expected it to end well. He expected Keith to come back laughing, smiling, with a warm, new connection in his chest that would become a bond.

He hadn’t expected Keith to come back crying or saying that he had yet another bond forced on him.

He had slept next to Keith that night. It was cramped and uncomfortable for both of them, but he didn’t dare let the kitten out of his sight for that moment. Anyways, the closeness helped ease both of their nightmares.

He woke the next morning aching and angry. The fury that he had put to the side in order to take care of Keith was now swelling inside. His magic responded and he could feel it whipping into a tempest.

He swallowed it long enough to wake Keith gently to wish him a good morning and to tell him that he would see him later. It was Monday, after all, and fury or no fury, he still had classes to teach.

Anyways, the McClain kid would be coming back to school too.

 

He went through the school day with a distracted focus. He narrowed in on every mop of brown hair and constantly found himself wondering _Is that him? Or is it that kid?_. His students noticed the change and a few of them even asked if he was alright. He brushed them off, saying he was fine, and pointedly ignored the rolling anger that bubbled inside him.

He didn’t see Lance McClain until after the school day ended and he was just about to go home to Keith. He was packing up his things and then, suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw _him._

He was walking alone in the hallway, without a care in the world, and the sight of it made his stomach turn. He practically sprinted out the door, grabbing McClain’s arm and dragging him into an empty classroom.

“Hey! What!” He squawked, but went silent at Shiro’s angry glare.

“We need to talk,” the familiar growled lowly, darkness in his voice. His stormy magic was thickening the air, and he could taste the static electricity on his tongue.

The witch gulped and didn’t put up much of a fight. Shiro shoved the boy into the middle of the room, doing everything in his power to not just punch the kid for hurting his baby brother. The boy looked like a cornered animal and backed away from Shiro when he rounded on him. The boy let out a yelp when his back hit a desk, realising he was trapped between Shiro and the desk.

He looked about one second from sprinting in the other direction, but Shiro pinned him with a glare, smiling a little with he saw the boy’s breath hitch in fear.

“Look” he yelped, holding his hands up in front on him, “I know what I did was bad, but you don’t understand. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Of course, you had a choice,” Shiro snapped and his magic crackled across his fingers in thin arcs of electricity. The witch flinched back, his eyes wide and pleading. “You always have a choice, and you chose wrong.”

“Look, I know what I did was wrong!” The witch practically screamed, anger and frustration built up in his voice. His hands were fisted tightly and a shudder ran through him. When Shiro looked at his face he noticed tear tracks across his cheeks.

“I know, I fucked up” He said suddenly quiet, even though the sound travelled like a scream. “How can I not know I fucked up? But you have to believe me.” The witch snapped his head up, looking at Shiro through watery eyes. “I didn’t have a choice.”

Shiro had expected the witch to be a villain or at least someone he could hate. He didn’t expect the witch to be this broken boy who looked just as hurt and scared as Keith had last night.

For the first time, Shiro considered that maybe he didn’t know the whole story of what happened last night.

“Make me understand.” He said firmly, his voice jolting Lance. That obviously wasn’t what he had been expecting to hear and he scrutinised Shiro warily.

“What?”

“Make me understand,” he repeated softly, feeling like he was coaxing an animal out of a cage, “Tell me why you didn’t have a choice.”

Lance obviously didn’t know what to say. He nervously tapped his foot against the floor and picked at his fingernails. He kept his gaze stubbornly against the ground, avoiding Shiro’s gaze, but occasionally risking a glance up. Shiro could see Lance fighting with himself and debating over whether to tell or not.

_What kind of secret was he hiding?_

Lance broke the silence with a dark chuckle. “I guess it doesn’t matter now,” he rasped and he rubbed at a spot on his chest, “I’m going to die soon anyways.”

Shiro started and something heavy settled in his stomach. What was he talking about?

But before he could ask any more questions, Lance began taking off his shirt.

He was stunned into silence as he watched the shirt reveal the jet-black mark.

_A death curse._

He gasped, and his magic instantly began whipping into a tempest in his chest. It was trying to protect him from the black magic, fed by his revulsion and shock at seeing such a despicable mark.

 He couldn’t do anything but stare at the curse written on Lance’s chest. He had only ever read about these curses, seen them in books and occasionally movies, he had never imagined to face one in real-life.

Especially not on a child.

“It’s pretty bad isn’t it,” Lance whispered, curling his hand around the mark and running a finger over the timer on his life. All the sudden, Shiro noticed signs of a curse: his laboured breathing, the shake in his hands, the hard set of his jaw.

With a curse this close to completion, he had to be in pain.

“I’ve never shown anyone outside my family this,” he mused, his voice far away. He was still staring down at the mark with an unreadable expression. “But I guess, everyone will know once I drop dead somewhere.”

And that’s when it hit him.

“That’s why you did it… That’s why you tried to force a bond.”

Lance shot his head up, as if startled by Shiro’s words. His mouth was gaping, and his eyes quickly searched the familiar’s face.  

He looked… Surprised? Why would he look surprised, he after all, was the one who did it?

“What did you say?” Lance asked in disbelief.

The familiar blinked and repeated his words slowly, “That’s why you tried to force a bond?”

The witch recoiled in disgust and his face paled. Shiro briefly worried that he might vomit. “Is that what Keith thinks…” he fought to get the words out, “That I was trying to force a bond?”

Shiro was obviously missing something and it was becoming clear that no one had the whole story. The knowledge of that sat uneasily in his stomach.

“Yes?”

“Oh, God,” Lance swayed from where he stood, “I need to sit down.” He mumbled. Shiro jumped and helped the witch practically collapse into a chair.

The familiar took a seat next to Lance, sitting sideways in it so he could still face the witch. Lance was sitting forward, his elbows on the table, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “This is such a fucking mess,” he sighed to himself.

“I’m guessing you didn’t try to force a bond on Keith?” Shiro said slowly, a little afraid of the boy’s reaction.

He shook his head slowly and turned his face towards Shiro. The skin around his eyes was red and suddenly he seemed much older.

“No,” he said firmly, “I would never. No matter how desperate I got… Forced bonds are disgusting. God, I can’t believe anyone would do that to another person.”

Lance spoke so earnestly, so full of truthfulness that Shiro couldn’t believe that this boy would try to force a bond. He looked just as scared by the idea as Keith, and like he truly believed that someone wouldn’t do that to another human being.

Shiro laughed darkly and ran a hand through his hair, remembering when he thought the same thing. “You’d be surprised.”

Lance gave him a puzzled expression before understanding trickled onto his face, “Wait, you don’t mean…”

Shiro nodded, looking from the witch. He heard Lance’s gasp and the shuddering breaths. “Keith has had five forced bonds.” He said, softly. The words weighed on him almost physically, and he wished that he would never have to say them.

Keith’s forced bonds were an open secret around the Garrison. He heard the rumours about his little brother and honestly, he was surprised that Lance didn’t know already. It did make sense, though, especially with the witch’s reaction to being accused of forcing a bond.

“I can’t believe I made him think that I was forcing a bond.” Lance said sorrowfully, emotion thick in his voice, “He must hate me so fucking much and I don’t blame him, I would hate me too.”

“So wait, if you weren’t trying to force a bond, what were you trying to do?”

Lance reached to the ground and grabbed his backpack. He opened it and slid a piece of paper across to Shiro.

“You were right.” He admitted, “I need a familiar bond in order to perform the counter-curse. It has to be a strong one, though, and Keith and I, we had a weak bond. I thought I could jumpstart it enough to break the curse.”

The familiar took the paper and read over the spell. His eyes lit up in understanding when he recognised the temporary bond strength spell. It was a pretty common spell among experienced bond pairs, and Allura and him had definitely used it in a pinch. It didn’t hurt and was actually pretty innocuous of a spell. Theoretically, Lance should have been able to use it to perform the counter-curse, but Keith probably broke off the connection before he had time.

Shiro groaned when all the pieces began clicking in place and he began to fully understand what happened between Keith and Lance.

“Do you care about my brother?” he asked suddenly. 

Lance looked up surprised, but then his face melted into a small smile. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Keith is one of the most amazing people that I’ve ever met. And I know, I’ve only known him for a couple days and every single time I fucked it up somehow, but he’s just strong, ya’ know? And I thought that before I knew that he had fought through all those forced bonds…” he trailed off and swirled a finger on the desk in front of him as he thought.

“There’s something about him. I can’t put my finger on it, but it feels _right.”_  Lance said, before doubt began to enter his voice, “It’s too bad I won’t live to figure out what that something is.” He said with a finality that shook Shiro.

And that’s what it took for him to make him the decision.

“Come on,” he ordered, standing up and stretching his wings out behind him. Inside him, his magic danced against his chest, silently supporting him.

Lance stood, obviously confused about what was going on.

“Wait, where are we going?” he asked as he began following the familiar out the door. Shiro looked at him over his shoulder and for the first time, gave Lance a smile.

“We’re going to see Keith and get this sorted out.”

Lance was stunned into stopping in the middle of the hallway, gaping in disbelief. Shiro kept walking, and after a couple seconds heard the witch rushing to catch up to him.

“Really?” he gasped, “you believed me?”

“Yes, and I think that we can fix this huge misunderstanding.” Shiro looked down, catching Lance’s eyes. He could see hope in them at last. The boy chanced a smile, and a wave of protectiveness rose in Shiro.

Together, they walked towards Shiro’s apartment and the familiar silently prayed that Keith wouldn’t be too angry to hear him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers!
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter and seeing what Shiro had to say. Next chapter we will return to our regularly scheduled Keith/Lance point of views and see how the boys begin to work it out.
> 
> As you can probably tell, I've moved this story to a more biweekly posting schedule. My betas and I are all in school again, so things are super hectic!
> 
> I hope to see you soon in the next chapter!!
> 
> Please consider leaving a kudos or comment!!


	8. Reckoning and Re-evaluation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to my fans who have always supported me, my betas who put up with my shit and everyone who's cheering me on!

Chapter 8: Reckoning and Re-evaluation

 

**Keith**

Keith woke up to the feeling of his magic tossing and turning inside of him. The flame in his chest jumped across his ribs, tickling him from the inside. It bounced through his brain and nudged against him like a kitten trying to get its owner’s attention. He grumbled, shooting a sense of irritation towards his fidgeting magic.

His magic redoubled its efforts and was practically hopping all over his body at this point.

“Okay, fine!” he growled, sitting up on the bed. “I’m awake. Are you happy now?” His magic didn’t answer of course, but it did settle into a nice, calm burn at the centre of his chest.

Keith pouted, but didn’t dare try to fall asleep again, fearing what his magic would do if he so blatantly ignored its demands. It would probably be much worse than a little tickling if he did.

He threw the blankets away from himself, shivering slightly as the cool morning air touched his skin. His ears pressed unhappily against his head at the sensation, as he hissed through his teeth.

“Cold, cold, cold…” he mumbled as he fought with the sheets before getting off the bed. He immediately went over to Shiro’s dresser and began to rifle through it. He found one of his brother’s old, oversized hoodies and threw it on. It practically swallowed him, the sleeves were longer than his arms. He hiked the material up to his elbows, only to have it slip loose over his hands again.

Inside him, his magic flickered playfully.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me,” he muttered as he began to stumble towards the kitchen, giving up on making the hoodie fit him better. After all, there was something comforting about the huge sweater, and if there was anything that Keith needed at this moment, it was comfort.

Silently, he started to prepare a pot of coffee and his eyes flickered up to the clock. It read 11:47 am. Guess it, wasn’t morning after all.

Keith stumbled over to the fridge and silently began making himself a sandwich. He focussed on the flaking on the bread crust, the moist shine of the deli meat, the slight smell of the cheese, anything but Lance’s betrayal.

But every time his mind started to wander onto something else, his mind brought up Lance’s eyes, Lance’s face, Lance’s kind words, how promising Lance had seemed…

How Lance had stabbed him in the back.

Keith didn’t want to think about it, but he couldn’t make himself _not_ think about it. His thoughts swirled in a tempest inside his head, conflicting feelings of hurt and betrayal mixing with his disbelief and shock.

He put his sandwich on to a pan and began to heat up on the stove.

More than anything, he had just wished it hadn’t happened. He wished that he had never met Lance, never saw that smile or listened to those promise. Never started thinking about what his life would be like with a witch and without the threat of the Garrison or ferality. Never started dreaming about his future.

Never started feeling a _something_ in his heart, a broken, confusing _something_ that didn’t leave even after the betrayal.

On the stove, his sandwich starting burning and smoke rose from the bread in the pan. Keith cursed and quickly threw the scorched food away.

He turned to start over.

Start over…

It seemed like he was always starting over.

For once, he had thought that this time he wouldn’t have to.

 

He began making his sandwich again.

 

When he finished putting this one together,  he didn’t even bother putting it in a pan to heat it up on the stove. He ate it cold and the bread stuck against the back of his throat. He got a cup of coffee to wash it down and stumbled over to the couch in front of the television.

He plopped down, shifting to make sure that he wasn’t sitting on his tail, then sank into the couch. It was large, overstuffed and easily gave into his weight, molding around him like a hug. It may have been ugly as hell, but it smelled like home. Keith remembers exactly when he and Shiro had first got it.

Shiro had accidently won it, actually, while playing poker, and had had to call Keith to bring one of the Garrison pick-up trucks to drive it home. Taking a truck technically wasn’t allowed, but Shiro got to bend the rules for being the Garrison’s golden child. So, Keith hot-wired a truck and drove it to a shady looking bar where Shiro was standing outside with a butt-ugly couch and an embarrassed look on his face.

It took them five hours before they managed to get the couch to the Garrison and up to the apartment. Keith complained the entire time and Shiro tried desperately to defend his poor gambling choices, but eventually they sat it down in front of the TV. It hasn’t moved ever since.

By now, it was a fixture of the apartment and comforted Keith by reminding him exactly where he was. Which was exactly what he needed right now.

He turned his head, settling into the cushions. He reached for the remote before turning the channel to some innocuous sitcom about a paper supply company. The voices of the television droned on and time began to pass.

He doesn’t know how long he had been sitting on the couch before he heard Shiro coming to the door. His ears swivelled back on his head, tracking the sound. He tilted his head confused when he heard not one set of footsteps, but two.

Who was the other person? Had Shiro mentioned Allura coming over today?

He fought to remember if Shiro had said something about having a guest. He vaguely remembered Shiro saying good morning to him earlier today, but he was half-asleep then and his mind was foggy, so it was possible that he had just forgotten.

He shrugged and listened to Shiro fumbled with his keys, opening the door.

“Hey, Keith,” he called, his voice slightly unsure, which definitely was a clear warning signal.

The cat instantly whipped around, the television completely forgotten as he stared at who was in the front door.

The smell and sight of him hit Keith all at once, making him gasp for breath. After hours of stubbornly trying to forget that he existed, he couldn’t believe that Lance McClain-Rios was standing there having the audacity to try to look meek and small.

Seeing the witch in Shiro’s home, in his _safe place_ , made his anger roar. Inside him, his magic rose up like a wildfire, blazing powerfully in his stomach, threatening to be let out. He could smell smoke in the air and the temperature rising steadily around him as his emotions crashed around him.

“Get out,” he growled, fire crackling on his tongue, lacing with his words. The only thing that was stopping him was Shiro who was curling a wing around the blue witch.

“Keith,” his voice was tired, but firm, “calm down. He just wants to talk and I’m not going to let him do anything to you.”

The words did little to comfort Keith and instead stung of subtle betrayal.

“What is he even doing here?” Keith hissed, not missing the way that Lance flinched at the tone. _Good,_ he thought, _he should be afraid._ He flexed his claws into the palm of his hand, letting them glint in the light.

Shiro’s eyes narrowed at the display and he frowned at the cat. “Keith,” he warned, his big-brother voice leaking in. “Enough of that. I told you he just wants to talk.”

“Yeah, but what if I don’t want to?”

“Stop being difficult,” Shiro snapped, his shoulders tense with frustration. “Hear what he has to say.”

Keith growled, low and animalistic. His ears were flat against his head, his tail whipped wildly behind him. He was torn between the instincts of “fight or flight” and the warring emotions that threatened to drown him. He met Lance’s eyes and glared, putting every inch of anger and hurt it the gaze.

“No,” he spat. “he lost his chance when he tried to force a bond on me.”

Keith turned, trying to end the conversation. He hoped that Shiro would get the message, that he would turn the witch around and take him out of Keith’s life.

That didn’t happen, of course.

“But I didn’t try to force a bond on you,” Lance said, finally speaking up. His voice cut through Keith’s thoughts and it unfairly made that _something_ flutter in his heart. Keith cursed that thing, trying to mentally stomp it down and out of his life.

The familiar turned and looked Lance up and down. He looked pathetic, small and, Keith squinted his eyes because he wasn’t sure of what he wasn’t seeing, in pain?

That did little to quell his anger.

“You can’t tell me that you didn’t try to force a bond on me. I was there. I know what they feel like.”

“Yes, you would know whether Lance was actually performing the spell,” Shiro cut in, meeting Keith’s eyes. “But you were scared and confused when Lance first performed the spell. Think about it now. Is that really how the forced bond spell feels?”

Keith didn’t say anything and Shiro continued. “Keith, you have to admit that you’re jumpy around other’s magics. Hell, the first time Lance tried to make a connection with you, you punched him in the face.”

The cat familiar didn’t answer, but for the first time, he began to consider that maybe he misinterpreted the situation. He had to admit (though not out loud) that Shiro might have had a point. Forced bond spells felt binding, constricting, like they were strapping his magic down and opening it up. Lance’s spell felt different- more like it was water raising up around his magic as if it was a container to be filled.

So maybe it was a different spell, but that didn’t excuse the fact that Lance did it without Keith’s permission.

The cat familiar flicked his eyes to Lance. The witch straightened under his gaze, as if he was surprised that Keith was looking at him at all. He was nervously picking at his cuticles and there were obvious bags under his eyes. His breathing was strained and he seemed to have trouble taking in air.

Finally, Keith spoke. “I refuse to have any connections with a witch who would think that it’s alright to perform a spell against a familiar without their permission.” He paused, letting some of his magic intimidatingly crackle in the air, “Any spell,” he clarified with a growl.

Lance deflated, looking like he had been kicked in the stomach. He nodded and crossed his arms, staring at the floor.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never should have done the spell, especially without asking you. I’m so so sorry…” he trailed off quietly.

Shiro nudged him with a wing, trying to comfort the witch, and Keith felt a flare up of betrayal rise. “You have to show him.” He whispered to Lance, but Keith’s keen ears caught the words.

Some if his anger melted into curiosity against his permission. “Show me what?” he snapped.

The blue witch flinched at the words and rapidly flicked his eyes between Keith and Shiro. His breathes became more rapid as his nerves rose, but the quickness of the motion seemed to make it even harder to breathe for him.

His hand was trembling as he grasped the edge of his shirt, the fabric quaked in his palm. He struggled to pull the clothing over his head and when he did, Keith immediately flinched back.

He didn’t know what was marked on Lance’s skin, but he knew that it was evil. Something in him screamed at him to back away, but he was frozen, staring at the mark. His magic rose in him, eager to protect, but just as confused as himself about what he was being protected from.

“It’s a death curse and it will probably kill me in a day or two.” Lance whispered, his voice long and far away, “I’ve had it since I was a child and it’s why I tried to pull that stunt with you.” Finally, Lance met Keith’s eyes and the familiar had never seen someone look so defeated.

“I’m sorry,” the witch continued, “I thought… I thought that maybe if I could strengthen our connection into a stronger bond than I could reverse the curse… but... I know I was wrong now.”

Keith didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure if there was anything he _could_ say. His anger was still there, but tempered against all the new emotions of realisation, confusion and disbelief. A part of him still felt betrayed, both by Lance who committed the act, and Shiro who brought the witch into his home. Those feelings were buffeted by the pain he saw in Lance’s eyes and the sheer resignation in his voice.

Because Keith _knew_ that desperation.

He knew what is was to feel like there was no hope, to not see a way out, to look into your future and only see pain and death.

Keith had been that person, and because of that he was finding it hard to punish Lance for being that person too.

But he couldn’t just forgive the hurt, something ugly in himself wouldn’t let him.

He didn’t know what to do.

So, he asked who he always asked.

“Shiro, can I talk to you in private for a moment?” he asked calmly, his voice masking his emotions. The eagle looked startled and he nodded, before following Keith into the bedroom.

“What’s wrong?” Shiro asked immediately, and Keith let go some of the nerves he had been holding back. His ears flickered on his head, his tail whipped across his legs and he paced anxiously around the room.

“Shiro, what do I do?” he asked, running hands through his hair.

The other familiar quirked an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, “You have to form a bond with him to dispel the curse.”

Keith paced more quickly, his heart leaping in his chest. Anger rose within him when he thought about Lance making a bond with him. “But Shiro… I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, Keith. I know you can.”

“I won’t, though,” he said stubbornly, almost convincing even himself.

“Yes, you will,” Shiro growled, the sound catching Keith off-guard, forcing him to whip around and look at his brother. Shiro was standing with his wings flared partially open.

“Keith, you cannot let that boy die.” Shiro met his eyes evenly, and they blame a little softer, “and I know that you don’t want him to die.”

The part that Keith hated the most was that he knew Shiro was right. That little small _something_ in him, knew that he didn’t want Lance to die. Because despite the betrayal, the backfiring spell, and all the secrecy around the curse, the thought of Lance being dead hurt. It hurt deeply, so much that it scared Keith.

All of that conflicted against the simmering anger he still couldn’t let go.

Keith turned away from his brother, making up his mind.

He stepped into the room where Lance waited.

 

**Lance**

When Lance was eleven years old, he had gotten a hold of his mom’s iTunes password and went insane buying a bunch of digital movies and music. Three hundred dollars later he was caught and his mom ordered him to his room so they could have a chat in private.

The worst part about that night wasn’t the fact that he had gotten caught, it was the sickening fear of his mom’s disappointment before her inevitable entrance to the room. He remembers shaking on his bedsheets, sweating like a pig as his mind went wild with what was going to happen to him. The panic clawed at his stomach and had him nearly in tears by the time his mother actually went up to talk to him.

The actually punishment wasn’t bad (a couple weeks of grounding and no phones allowed), the stewing in his own emotions was so much worse.

As Keith asked for Shiro to come to a private room with him, leaving Lance out in the living room all alone, the witch couldn’t help but feel like he was eleven years old again.

Except this time was so so much worse, because this time he hadn’t just spent some extra money, he had signed his own death sentence and hurt this beautiful familiar in the process.

Lance spun around the room, desperately trying to take in the décor as a way to get his mind off the conversation that was happening without him. If he strained his ears, he could just hear their muffled voices.

Normally, his heart would be pounding in his chest, but with the curse tangled around the organ, the beating only came out as a fluttery, jerky rhythm. With every breath, he could feel the curse’s vines wrapped about his life, threatening to squeeze it to death. They pierced through him, their thorns making his chest burn and stutter in pain.

He had to calm down. His breath was coming out too short and quick and he wasn’t getting enough oxygen. There was a fogginess in his head and the room was starting to swim around him. He stumbled and practically collapsed on the couch.

A substantial part of him wished that the death curse would just take him now and put him out of his misery.

Of course, the one time he wanted the curse, it did nothing but press against his chest like a loaded gun.

Briefly, Lance wondered how he would spend his last few days. Would he tell Pidge and Hunk and suffer their stares of pity? No thanks. But perhaps he could convince them to skip a day of school and just hang out with him. Make it a last hurrah without them knowing.

Maybe if he made the day fun enough, he could get through it without breaking into tears…

And if he was still alive at the end of that day, he would take the next plane to Miami and spend his last hours with his family.

He wouldn’t be able to graduate, to become the witch he imagined he was going to be when he was younger. But if he got to see his family in his last moments…

 _Then,_ he thinks, _that would be enough for me._

He wouldn’t say that a wave of peace washed over him in that moment, but he definitely felt a bit calmer. Lance’s heartbeat slowed, and his breaths deepened as much as they could with the curse. For the first time since the curse’s thorns had tightened, he didn’t feel panic clawing at his stomach.

And then the bedroom door opened with a squeak and the two familiars walked back into the room.

His heartbeat immediately quickened, the organ jumping within its cage of vines causing the thorns of the curse to dig into his flesh. He couldn’t stop the whine of pain that rose in his throat. Sweat coated his forehead and he gritted his teeth as he waited for the stabbing to ease.

“Sorry,” he groaned as he looked up at the familiars. Shiro was looking at him with that pitying expression that he absolutely hated seeing on people. Keith’s expression was much more guarded, much more subtle, but Lance thought he saw concern in the cat familiar’s eyes.

Lance couldn’t help but feel his curiosity peak. He didn’t deserve Keith’s compassion in the slightest, and until that moment he thought he had a snowball’s chance in hell of getting any of the familiar’s mercy.

Keith stepped forward, his grey-purple eyes stormy. From Lance’s position on the coach, he seemed to be a hundred feet tall and haloed in light like a god looking down from the heavens.

“I’ve made my decision,” he stated, his voice cutting through the room like a knife. Lance’s breath caught in his throat.

“I’m going to make a bond when you.”

Lance’s mind screeched to a halt, every single one of his thoughts erasing in an instant. He stared at the familiar as he fought to comprehend exactly what he had just said.

_What?_

_How?_

And his biggest question: _Why?_

Keith must have read the question from his face, because his own gaze softened a bit and he spoke a little more softly. His eyes flickered over the witch’s chest, still bare as he hadn’t put his shirt back on. The familiar’s eyes stopped on the curse, silently studying the mark.

“I’m not going to just let you die, Lance. I know you need my bond and I’m not heartless enough to refuse you a chance to live.”

Lance caught the familiar’s eyes and he saw an even softer expression then he had ever thought he would get from the boy. Then, in an instant, it disappeared and Keith’s wall went back up.

“I have some conditions, though.” He straightened his posture, his ears flattened on his head. “When we bond, Shiro will perform the bond strengthening spell. I am not letting you perform a spell on me again.” He glared, a growl beneath his words.

Lance flinched on the couch, suddenly feeling vulnerable and naked under Keith’s eyes. “Of course,” he murmured and the familiar nodded, before continuing.

“We will break the bond immediately and then you will leave. I don’t want to talk to you again. I don’t want to see you again. I want you to go far away and stay out of my life forever.” 

It was like a bucket of icy water had been poured down Lance’s spine. The shock spread through his body, leaving him feeling completely numb.

He didn’t know why he was surprised.

Of course, the familiar hated him enough to force him to leave. Of course…

But still…

“But Keith,” Shiro’s voice sounded from somewhere above Lance. It was slurred and distant as if Lance was hearing it through water. “You can’t do that to him. And, you know that you need this bond just as much as he does.”

Keith’s voice sounded hollow. “Like hell I’m letting the Garrison move me to some other fucking prison. They can fucking try.”

Lance’s world was slowly coming back into focus as he came to terms with the shock. He was silent as the brothers talked above him.

“Keith,” Shiro hissed, the feathers on his wings puffing in emotion, “you can’t do that. You’ll go feral.”

“This isn’t your choice, Shiro.” Keith squared his shoulders, as if preparing for a fight. His fists were clenched, his tail whipped behind him. His eyes were narrowed and blazed like a forest fire. “This is my choice. My choice!”

Shiro took a step back, his wings pulling close into himself. His large body looked incredibly small against Keith’s words. Lance watched as the man curled in on himself, seeing his heart break.

“Okay, Keith, okay…” he said, his voice vacant. Keith blinked at the sudden change in his brother and watched as his brother turned away. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but he must have decided against it because nothing came out.

With a frustrated huff, Keith rounded on Lance, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Let’s get this over with,” the cat said with a tired sigh. He closed his eyes, reaching up to rub the spot between his eyebrows. Lance knew that Keith couldn’t be much older than him, but in that moment, the boy seemed to have decades written into his face. He seemed so much more lifeless than he been when Lance first met him, like he was the faded photograph of someone he should be.

 _What had Keith been through?_ Lance wondered

Then, with a start, he realised that he would never get the privilege of finding out.

The witch stood, coming to where the familiar was already waiting. He took Keith’s hands, noticing how they were limp and cold resting in his own. It was strange for a fire familiar to feel so cold. Gently, he squeezed them.

“I really am sorry,” he whispered, the words crashing between them.

Keith raised his head, meeting Lance’s eyes. A subtle, hollow smile flickered on his face as soft as candlelight.

“I am too.”

Before Lance could respond or even really think about what those words meant, he felt the connection between them flicker to life. The walls between them came down and their magics flowed out.

Lance’s own magic rippled like a stream and immediately rushing towards Keith’s. He couldn’t help the way that his magic was attracted to the familiar’s. His magic was _him,_ deep and integral and built upon his own desires.

He knew what he felt for Keith.

Distantly, he heard Shiro’s voice behind them and felt the effects of the strengthening spell cascading over the connection between them. It pulled their magics closer, urging them to bond together stronger.

For a second, Lance held back, not willing to let his magic be so exposed to another, not willing to let Keith see his bare and raw emotions. 

But after holding it back for so long, after not being able to say all the things he wanted to say or be the person he wanted to be, he found that he couldn’t do it any longer. 

With a breath, he let it all go. He tore down his walls. He ripped out his inhibitions. He threw away the fear that held him back.

He exposed his soul, his emotions, his magic to Keith, letting the familiar see everything through the bond.

He gave more than he had to to make the strengthening spell work. After all, he had given Keith everything. He felt the spell take what Lance had given and forge a strong bond between them.

Lance gasped at how intense it felt. It was a bond meant for pairs that had been together for years, a witch and familiar who had committed themselves to each other and trusted each other with their whole being. It was a bond that would have taken years of hard work and loyalty. It pulled Lance towards the familiar like the tide being pulled towards the moon.

His own magic welled up in him, more fervid than he had ever felt it. It urged him forward against the vines that were wound around his heart, telling him that now was the moment he had been waiting for his entire life.

He smiled and began to chant the counter-curse. Words that he had said every night before going to sleep rolled off his tongue like water. Instead of floating into the empty air, though, the combined magic of him and Keith imbued them with power.

The wisps of magic swirled around them, becoming potent enough to be visible to the naked eye. They crackled like red and blue fireworks and twirled through the air.

The magic suddenly changed direction and pushed against his chest. He gasped as he felt it fight against the curse, cutting the vines and washing away the toxicity that was corroding him from the inside out.

The curse unravelled, the pain faded away, and Lance’s heart beat without constraint.

A bitter joy welled up in Lance and he fought not to cry.

Then, just as quick as it had come, he felt the bond begin to break down. It was subtle, like the autumn melting into winter. Keith’s magic so comforting and warm, unbound itself from Lance’s, the chill slowly setting back in.

As it eased away, Lance’s own magic tried to follow like a moth drawn to a flame only to be held back by Lance himself. It whined in his chest, its watery cries echoing in his head.

And just like his magic, he wanted to cry to, but he couldn’t. He didn’t deserve the privilege to miss Keith when he had fucked everything up so bad.

He let go of Keith’s hand and dared to look at his face. The familiar was standing stiffly, his mouth slightly open in shock. Tears flowed from his eyes.

Guilt rose in Lance’s stomach as he realised that his bond was the cause of the broken look on the familiar’s face. He desperately wanted to comfort the other boy, to draw him close and wash away the pain. He wanted to kiss Keith and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. He wanted to be the reason that Keith would never have to feel lonely or incomplete again.

 But Keith didn’t need him, Keith didn’t need Lance to be anything in his life.

So, he did the one thing he could do for Keith, the one thing that he should have done the first time they met.

Without another word, he left.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this turned out angsty-er than I thought it was going to be...  
> But we're going to have to see how Keith reacts to Lance's emotions next chapter!
> 
> Thanks guys for all the support! My tumblr is [@salparadiselost](https://www.salparadiselost.tumblr.com/)
> 
> This story has also received some totally amazing fanart by [@alyxrae](https://www.alyxrae.tumblr.com/)  
> who's an amazing writer and artist. You can see the artwork [here](http://www.alyxrae.tumblr.com/post/178659173051/kinda-fell-in-love-with-the-fic-magic-bound)  
> For those who are wondering, I welcome all fanart of my works.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> This story updates biweekly, so expect the next chapter within the weekend of Oct 26th!
> 
> Consider leaving a kudos and review! Your words always help me write the next chapter!!


	9. Deciding to Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> Thank you for checking in to read the next chapter! As always a huge thank you to my betas, Zo and Cyan! They really are the ones who have brought this story to the next level. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this!

Chapter 9: Deciding to Run

 

**Lance**

Lance had ended up taking an Uber home. Shiro had brought him to his apartment in his car, and the shuttles had stopped running. He was usually so sociable in Ubers, eager to meet someone new and hear a snippet of their lives. Today, though, he politely gave non-answers, brushed off questions and effectively ended the conversation. He propped his chin up on his palms and looked out the window, stewing in his own thoughts.

His own thoughts, of course, being centred around Keith.

The witch couldn’t pull his mind away from the familiar: his expression as they broke the bond, his tears, his angry words, and, most poignantly, his compassion.

He still didn’t know why Keith gave him that compassion. He hadn’t expected it. He didn’t believe that he deserved it. He would have never even thought to ask for it after what he had done.

And yet…

Keith still gave it to him and saved his life because of it.

The knowledge of that bit into him, making him feel guilty in an unexpected way. It almost physically weighed him down as if he had the earth balanced between his shoulders.

Keith was wonderful, unexpected and merciful enough to show Lance a kindness that he didn’t deserve. How did he find it in himself? How was he so willing to extend his magic to someone in need? Especially after he had been hurt so many times and had his magic twisted against him?

Lance’s heart hurt just thinking about it. How could anyone ever deliberately hurt someone like Keith? Yes, Lance had hurt him, but he knew part of it was because of sheer panic. It wasn’t his intention to hurt Keith and to think of someone hurting Keith for the pleasure of it, to force a bond just because they could…

Just the thought made his skin crawl and a spark of fury rise in his stomach.

He couldn’t believe that Keith had been through that once- let alone five times. Why would a witch ever do that to a familiar, especially a brilliant one like Keith?

More confusing to Lance, though, was how the Garrison had let this happen. The Garrison that was supposed to be built on the relationship between witches and familiars and the mutual trust between them. The Garrison whose mission was supposed to unite witches and familiars, so both of them could achieve their fullest potential. The Garrison whose job was supposed to be to protect familiars from such abuse.

The thought continued to weigh at his mind as the driver pulled up in front of his house. Lance thanked him as he stepped out and watched as the car drove away. The afternoon was turning into evening, the sun was beginning to lower on the horizon. The neighbourhood around him was turning yellow in the setting sun. In about an hour, the day would be swallowed by the night.

He turned, a shadow casting on his face, and went through the front door.

He stepped into his house, immediately feeling more comfortable. The sight of it brought a warm familiarity and worked to ease away the chill that Keith’s magic had left within him. He closed his eyes, taking in the sounds and smell of the place. With a huge breath of air, he filled his lungs, relishing the feeling of his heart beating freely in his chest, unconstrained by the curse.

After a moment, he opened his eyes, noticing for the first time, Pidge sitting on the couch with a laptop perched on her knees.

“Hey, Pidge”

“Oh hey, Lance,” she mumbled over the top of her computer, eyes not flicking up from the screen. “How was the talk with Mr. Shirogane?”

Lance froze and his mind scrambled to try to come up with an excuse. “Uh, nothing special. He just wanted to say some…” he searched for a topic, “school stuff.”

The bird familiar snorted, her over-sized sweatshirt bouncing with the movement. “You aren’t failing a class are you?”

Lance gave her an indignant look, even though she didn’t glance up from her computer to see it. Avoiding the wires hanging out of her laptop, he approached her and sank into the couch.

“Hardee har har,” he deadpanned. “You’re hilarious.”

“Thank you. I try,” she said, though fondness leaked into her voice. He leaned into her, putting his head on her small shoulder. She smiled softly and draped a wing across his back. Silently, he watched her buzz through line after line of computer code, her fingers rapidly typing against the keyboard.

“Whatchu doin’?” he asked finally, when he couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer.

“I’m hacking into the school’s database, so I can get this kid’s email. I need to send him some powerpoint slides.”

“What!?” Lance sat up a bit (and definitely did not a screech). “You can’t do that, Pidge.”

The bird huffed and rubbed at her ear. “Yes, I can,” she said. “I’m doing it right now.”

“Aren’t there other, _more legal,_ ways to do this though?”

“Yeah,” Pidge admitted, “but I don’t like those ways.”

“Couldn’t you have just texted or called someone to see if they had the guy’s email?”

Pidge nodde. “Yes, but those would involve actually interacting with somebody and, as I said before, I don’t like those ways.”

Lance decidedly gave up and slumped against Pidge again, watching her as she did all the  completely illegal stuff she enjoyed. “I can’t believe that you think this is easier.”

“It is,” she insisted, “look, I’m in.” As she spoke that she clicked a button and the computer screen showed the student’s entire personal file. “See no human interaction needed!”

“Great, you’re one step closer to being a mole person.”

Pidge didn’t answer, but Lance felt her body shake with silent laughter. He quietly watched as she expertly pulled up the boy’s file and obtain the correct email address. She quickly opened another tab and sent off a quick email.

“And done- easy” Lance couldn’t help giving her a small smile. He looked back at the computer where the boy’s Garrison file was still shown.

The question of Keith’s forced bonds floated in the back of his mind.

“Hey Pidge, do you think that you could search up Keith Kogane for me?”

The bird hummed, glancing at the witch. “Why are you stalking your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Lance cut her off quickly, “I just have something I’m curious about.”

Usually Pidge would have teased him mercilessly about showing interest in Keith’s personal file, but a hardness in Lance’s voice stopped her. She glanced down at him, meeting his eyes with a concerned head tilt. He stubbornly decidedly to not look away.

“Okay, sure.” She pulled the screen with the code up again and quickly changed the name of the file she was searching for. Within a couple moments, the screen showed an image of Keith’s face, the familiar looking defiantly into the camera.

Lance perked up against Pidge and she handed the laptop over to him.

“I haven’t eaten anything in a little bit, so I’m going to go make myself a sandwich. Just close the page when you’re done.” She moved off of the couch, her wings sketching behind her. She fluffed them to get out some aches and began to walk towards the kitchen.

“Okay. Thanks, Pidge,” Lance called after her, even though his eyes were already glued to the screen.

He clicked through a few tabs, reading some general things about Keith (he was apparently born in Texas) before immediately feeling too invasive. He had wanted to know one thing, and he was going to stick to that. Looking up anything else felt too stalker-ish.

After scrolling through a couple pages and being about ready to give up, Lance’s eyes caught on the word “bond history”. He clicked on the link and suddenly the screen was flooded with pictures of Keith is various states of abuse. His eyes immediately watered when he saw pictures of the familiar, probably no older that ten or eleven, beaten and bruised. He was looking desperately into the camera, terrified eyes silently pleading.

Like a coward, Lance scrolled past the image, and didn’t dare stop on any of the others either. Eventually, he reached the bottom of the page, which showed images of Keith’s most recent witch and the abuse that the familiar had received from him. Lance shivered when he recognised some of the scars.

A rumbling anger began to form in his stomach as he took in Keith’s condition.

He dragged his eyes away from the picture and instead looked at the paragraph next to it. It went into analytical detail of Keith’s fifth bond. The words coldly described the injuries he sustained and the treatment he received with his on return to the Garrison. It mentioned nothing about the punishment the witch received.

The simmering anger turned into a boiling fury when he realised exactly what the file was implying. Keith hadn’t just stumbled on to this witch by accident, that the Garrison had matched him with this witch and shipped him off to the hellhole.

He scrolled back to the beginning of the page, rapidly reading over the circumstances behind each of Keith’s bonds. Every single witch had been matched by the Garrison. Every single witch received no punishment. Every single time Keith’s well-being was ignored and he was sent off to another witch.

He reached the bottom of the page and below the history of Keith’s fifth bond read a couple paragraphs of ominous text:

_Familiar: Keith Kogane has been requested to transfer to (insert Institute code) #4758 , due to inability to bond at (insert Institute code) #1176. Status of request: approved if no bond is found by transfer date. Home institute requests bond matching service at transfer institute due to familiar’s aggression against witches. _

_Type of bond suggested (insert additional details): “This particular familiar would do best with a forceful witch that will be strict witch rules. Visitation from family members should not be allowed because they often make the familiar more agitated and violent.”_

_Date of return to parent institute: not applicable._

A chill swept through Lance when he realised exactly what those words meant. The Garrison wanted to send him away. They wanted to rip him from his family and ship him off to another place with no hope for return. They wanted to bond Keith with another witch, this time though, without the hope of Shiro saving him.

He remembered what two had said to one another. Shiro’s worried comment of _“you know that you need this bond just as much as he does.”_ And Keith’s reply of _“Like hell I’m letting the Garrison move me to some other fucking prison. They can fucking try.”_

It all clicked, Keith knew he was going to be taken away without a bond. He was fighting it, trying to go feral by his own decision instead of being forced into a bond again, but Lance got the sickening sense that it might be a losing battle.

Lance knew what to do.

“Thanks, Pidge,” he called into the kitchen, closing down the tabs and leaving the laptop on the couch. He began sprinting up to his room, taking the stairs two at a time.

He opened his door, practically slamming it against the wall and  threw himself into his desk chair, opening up his own laptop. He logged into the Garrison website and went to the section of the website about bonding with familiars.

He didn’t expect it, but as he clicked into that section of the website, his emotions began to well up inside him. He wasn’t sure whether it was happiness or sadness, but it made his chest ache. He had long since given up hope on finding a familiar or living long enough to have a bond and yet here he was.

The website showed a document for newly bonded witches and familiars to fill out in order to finalise their bond status, a magical binding contract that made them a pair in the eyes of the Garrison. Under a mock-up of the document was a short spell, one that Lance began to chant.

He felt his magic stir inside him and begin to reach out of his body. The spell acted like a strong, a connection between to separate objects in space. His magic began pulled, drawing the form to Lance, and, with a snap, a copy of the form appeared on Lance’s desk.

He took a pen and hovered over the signature line. Right as he was about to press it to paper, he hesitated, doubting his actions. Was this the right thing? Was this what should be done?

If Keith could give all that he gave, so very much, his own life really, to Lance he could at least give the familiar this.

He signed it and felt another spell begin to take place, one that locked him into a contract. A sense of finality washed over him, but he didn’t dare think about it too much.

After he set that inside, he began to write a letter to Keith:

_Dear Keith,_

_First off, I need to say thank you. I didn’t say it at your apartment because I was too much of a coward and I couldn’t stand seeing those tears on your face. I guess, I’m still a coward for writing it instead of saying it, but…_

_I know you don’t want to see me and I know that you probably don’t want anything to do with me right now, but there’s one more thing I have to do before I go. Inside this letter is a Declaration of Bond. I’ve signed it._

_I know this means that I won’t be able to take another bond, but I also know that it means that the Garrison will not have a reason to send you to a different institution. I hope that you don’t take this the wrong way and I promise I’m not doing this to take the choice out of your hands. I want this to be a gift, a thank you, and a payment for my mistakes._

_Because you’ve given me my life back, Keith, the least I can do is give you time with the ones you love._

_I wish you all the best,_

_Lance_

Lance’s magic keened inside of him as he sealed the letter with the Declaration inside. His magic brushed against his chest, trying to comfort him, but it could do nothing about the sense of loss that was settling inside him.

Not because he would never be able to make another bond (he had already accepted that fate long ago), but because he would never get to be Keith’s witch. If that was what Keith wanted, though, Lance would do anything in his power to give him that. Keith after all, deserved to have a choice in something, and if it was going feral by his own volition, then that’s what needed to happen.

He placed the letter on the desk and wrote Keith’s name on it in huge letters. His chest hurt with every stroke, even though he knew this was for the best. When he finished, he turned to the computer and bought a plane ticket back home to Florida, leaving late that night.

He was fulfilling another one of Keith’s wishes: to never see him again.

 

* * *

 

**Keith**

Distantly, he was aware that Lance had left. His eyes had seen the witch’s back as retreat through the door, but his brain was having a hard time processing the action. It was almost like he was watching a movie and the actions playing out were just a mockery of what was happening.

This couldn’t be reality, could it?

Keith scrambled to try to sort out what was real, what was fake, and what was his own traitorous desires of what he wanted to happen. Did Lance really open up his soul to Keith or was that just his imagination?

No, it had to be real. The emotions were too authentic and raw to be anything but real. Keith had felt everything that Lance was feeling, bare and unreserved. He felt all the pain, the guilt, the regret, the sadness, the disappointment in himself, and underneath all of that, barely fluttering, but still turning with life, he felt the love.

That tiny emotion, even though it was beaten and bruised from all the pain that swirled inside Lance, took his breath away. It was one of the most beautiful things Keith had ever felt, and, in some unexplainable way it was directed towards him.

_How?_ He couldn’t help asking himself.

He _knew_ the answer, though, he had felt it in Lance’s emotions. Lance thought he was kind and strong and compassionate and stunning and a hundred other things that no one had ever believed Keith to be.

And above all those things, Lance thought that he was deserving of love. The witch didn’t see him as a familiar, broken by forced bonds, but as a person who was stronger because of them. Something that even Keith himself didn’t believe.

The witch felt all those things, and yet was still ready to give them up to make Keith happy.

“Keith, are you alright?” asked Shiro, shaking Keith out of his own thoughts. He came back into reality, just now starting to notice how he was shivering, how much his heart hurt inside his chest. He looked at his brother, easily reading his concern.

Shiro startled when he met Keith’s eyes, a wing immediately coming around him. “You’re crying” he whispered in disbelief before his voice gave way to worry. “Are you okay? Did he do something? Do you need to lay down?”

Keith shook his head, drawing his arms across his own chest. For the first time, he noticed the wetness on his cheeks and his magic crying inside him. It sounded heartbroken in a way that Keith had never felt before.

“No, Shiro,” he said, his voice cracking in the middle, “Lance, he….” He trailed off, unsure of whether or not to tell Shiro that Lance had opened his emotions to him. It suddenly felt incredibly intimate, too intimate to tell his brother about. Especially when he knew that Shiro would just go immediately into worried-overbearing-big-brother mode.

“He was fine,” he said instead. “I just think I need to take some time to myself.” He retreated away from Shiro’s wing, ignoring the part of him that missed its comfort. He also ignored the way that his brother’s worried eyes followed his form as he left the apartment and began the trek to his own room. The hallway was growing dim as the afternoon waned into evening. It cast a gilded light that dappled everything it touched into gold. Keith was suddenly reminded of the story of King Midas, the man who turned everything he touched into gold and how his touch became his downfall as everything he loved was ruined around him.

_Was that who he was turning into,_ Keith wondered, _someone who destroyed things with a single touch?_

He reached his apartment door, turning the handle and entering the room. His space was such a stark contrast to Shiro’s. His brother’s was comfortable and lived in- articles of their life thrown on couches and into corners and littered throughout the place. Keith’s studio apartment was barren and nearly vacant, organised not by necessity, but because Keith simply didn’t have much. The only sign that the place was actually lived in was a small collection of pictures that Keith had taped to the wall next to his bed.

Keith walked over to the bed, his heart still aching with every step, and eased on to it. He closed his eyes, deciding to take a few hours to be away from the world.

*****

The familiar stirred when he heard someone gently unlocking the door to his apartment. He blearily blinked his eyes open, relaxing when he saw a familiar mane of white hair. He didn’t bother sitting up, quietly watching as Allura put a box of takeout on the table. She turned back to him, meeting his eye as she gracefully sat on the bed beside him.

“Hey,” he said, his voice husky with sleep.

“Hey,” she murmured back. She reached out and gently ran a hand through his hair and over his ears. The action was maternal and affectionate and made Keith easily relax in her presence. He was usually so vocal against being pet, embarrassed by the way it easily drew a purr from his chest. Secretly, though, he loved the action and he could feel his magic nuzzling into the touch.

“Shiro told me that you bonded with Lance and broke his curse” Allura paused before her hand repeated the relaxing motion, “that was very brave of you.”

Keith’s felt his heart stutter as he envisioned Lance’s broken look. “It didn’t feel brave.”

“It was, Keith, you overcame a fear to help him. You chose to do the right thing, even though it scared you.”

The familiar didn’t answer, thoughts returning to Lance and his emotions and his bared soul. He hadn’t felt comfortable talking about it with his brother, but somehow Allura was different. She was always kind and understanding, able to set aside her emotions to consider a situation before making a decision.

“Allura, I need to tell you something,” Keith whispered, cautiously meeting her eyes. His fingers played with the edge of the blanket. Underneath the sheet, his heart pounded in his chest, the purr coming from his chest stuttered in his nervousness. The witch looked slightly confused, but the warmth didn’t leave from her eyes. She remained open and ready to listen as she continued to stroke along his ears.   

“Yes?” she prompted.

Keith swallowed, his teeth worrying against his lip before he finally spoke. “When Lance and I made the bond, Lance opened his soul to me.”

Allura quietly gasped, her hand still on his head as both of them knew the weight of Lance’s action. For a witch or a familiar to open their soul to each other was a huge show of trust and faith that usually only came after the pair had been bonded for years. Some familiar and witch pairs never even got to that level in their bond. For Lance to offer up his everything- his soul, his magic, his emotions- to Keith, who was basically a complete stranger, was nearly unthinkable.

The familiar couldn’t keep the hold on Allura’s eyes, he had to stare at the sheets instead.

“Keith,” Allura’s voice came from above him, drawing his eyes back up. “Keith, what did you feel?”

Before he could stop himself, he blurted out the thought that was weighing heavy on his chest. “He loves me,” he blurted out. “Allura, he loves me and I think… after what I felt… after I saw his emotions and the guilt he had and the way that he just wants my happiness… I think that I might, I might….”

That little _something_ was bursting in his chest, fighting to get let out.

“I think I could love him, too.”

Both of them were silent, neither quite knowing what to say after such a revelation. Keith’s heart was beating against his ribs like a bird caught in a cage. Above him, Allura was staring at a random point on his bed, obviously caught in thought.

“What should I do, Allura?” he asked, unsure about what else he should say.

She turned to him and started stroking his head again, speaking quietly. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. I know what I felt, but I still I can’t get over…” he trailed off, but he didn’t need to finish. The ugly feelings of betrayal and hurt were still festering in his stomach like an infection that wouldn’t go away. Behind them were the even darker echoes of all the trauma that trusting witches had caused him.

And yet, he knew Lance’s feelings now. He knew that the blue witch never wanted to hurt him and that the only reason he did was because he was in pain and panicking. He also knew that Lance was so much more that he seems and Keith ached at the fact that he might never be able to find out who that person was.

Finally, that _something_ in him broke from where he was tampering it down.

“Allura,” he said firmly, his voice building with a confidence. Inside him, his magic rumbled with anticipation and nudged him forward.

“I think I want to keep being brave.”

****

 

About fifteen minutes later, Keith was _not_ feeling brave anymore. He was feeling like he was a big ball of nerves that might unravel at any moment. There weren’t just butterflies in his stomach, there were huge ass elephants stomping all over inside of him.

“Keith, I love you,” Allura snapped at him from the driver’s seat. She was glaring, her eyes looked like shards of ice. “But I will kill you if your claws poke holes in my leather seats.”

He looked down sheepishly, his ears going flat in embarrassment. “Sorry,” he mumbled, “I’m just nervous.”

She sighed, some of the edge left her face. “I know you are, but I think you’re doing the right thing.”

Keith didn’t speak, but he couldn’t help it as a small smile made its way onto his face.

Finally, the GPS chirped that they had reached their destination. Keith looked out the window and saw a small white and green house come into a view. Neither of them had been here before, but they had stolen Lance’s address from Shiro’s Garrison teacher account (he used the same two-word password for everything). Together, they had also stolen Shiro’s car (he “hid” his keys in the exact same place every time) and also left without telling him (another rule they never listened to).

Keith’s heart caught in his chest and he thought that maybe it would just burst out of his chest. He got out of the car and walked to the front door quickly. He heard Allura following behind him and her silent presence helped him continue forward.

He stopped in the doorway and knocked against the wood. He waited a moment and listening to a few thumps come from inside the house where someone was obviously getting up to open the door. He braced himself for Lance’s shocked face and was surprised to see a large, tanned witch open the door instead. He smiled kindly at Keith, welcoming but also completely confused.

“Hello? How may I help you?” the witch asked and, for a second, Keith’s mind reeled, thinking that maybe he had gone to the wrong house. He was about to leave when he remembered that Lance had told him that he lived with another witch and their familiar.

“Hi, uh….” He stumbled over his words, nervously scraping his foot against the doormat, hoping he remembered the name right. “Are you Hunk?”

“Yeah. Were you looking for me?” the other man asked, clearly becoming more and more confused by the second.

Keith shook his head. “No actually. I’m looking for Lance.”

Before Hunk could answer, a high-pitched voice broke into the conversation. “Hunk, who is it?” chirped a familiar as she came around Hunk’s side. Keith saw that she had a pair of wings like Shiro’s, although her’s were a sandy brown and much slimmer.

“Oh my god,” she gasped and adjusted her glasses on her nose as she looked up at him, “You’re Keith Kogane.”

“I, uh, yeah?”

Hunk also gasped now, a grin threatening to burst across his face. He looked down at Pidge, meeting her eyes like they were silently conversing. “You mean…?”

“Yep.” She said.

“That Lance…?”

“The same.”

“And he…?”

“Uh huh,”

Keith had no idea what was going on at this point, just standing there awkwardly in the door as the witch-familiar pair continued to talk in front of him. Behind him, Allura nudged his shoulder, making him stumble.

Pidge and Hunk instantly looked at him and he straightened under their gaze.

“Is Lance here?” he blurted out a bit too loudly, his face instantly flushed in embarrassment.

Hunk looked uneasily down at Pidge before answering. “He isn’t actually. You just missed him. He said he had to go run an errand.” Then, his face brightened. “But actually there’s a letter in his room that he wanted me to give you.”

He opened the door wider to let Keith and Allura in before he started leading them up the stairs to Lance’s room.

“I’m actually glad you came because he asked me to give this to you tomorrow at the Garrison,” the witch rambled as he walked, “but I actually had no idea what you looked like so I didn’t know how I was going to find you. And here we are.” He said as he opened Lance’s door, going into the room. “And this is it.” He picked up a letter with Keith’s name on it off the desk handing it to the familiar.

 The cat thanked Hunk and shakily began to open the envelope. The contents of it spilled out, an official looking form falling onto the floor. He recognised it, and his mind came to a halt, not believing what he was seeing.

His hand trembled as he picked it off the floor, reading the heading: A Declaration of Bond and at the bottom, Lance’s messy signature. His knees felt weak and he stumbled over to the bed to sit down.

There were two pieces of paper in the envelope, Keith noticed, the Declaration and a letter. He pulled out the letter, noticing the scrawl, messy, but still legible. His heart clenched when he noticed two tiny stains from teardrops in the corner of the page. He gulped, suddenly nervous and began to read. He read over Lance’s apology, Lance’s confession his own self-hatred, Lance’s final sacrifice, and finally over the greatest gift that Keith had ever received.

A tear slipped down his face and fell onto the paper, making the ink run a bit.

After Keith had helped break the curse, Lance could have just left and forgotten about him. He could have gone and found another bondmate to live his curse-free life with. And instead, he decided to give that up. The document and the magic that bound it did nothing against the ferality that threatened to spill over inside Keith, but it did secure him a couple days to live without fear of being ripped away from his family.

In the letter, Lance had said that he hoped Keith wouldn’t look at this gift as a destruction of choice. And Keith didn’t see it like that, he saw it as the exact opposite, as it was: Lance was giving him the choice to live as he wanted to live.

And now, finally, he was choosing.

“Where is he?” he said as he looked up. The two witches and small familiar were staring at him with mixed expressions of shock and confusion.

“Dude, we don’t kn-“ Hunk started, but Pidge cut him off.

“I can track his phone!” Pidge shouted, waving her phone in the air with a grin on her face. Within a few swipes and taps, she brought up a map that showed that Lance was heading to the airport.

“Why is he going to the airport?” Allura questioned and Hunk and Pidge shrugged in confusion.

Keith also wondered over it for a moment , before suddenly his command to Lance caught in his mind. “Oh my god,” he whispered in realisation. “I said that I never wanted to see him again- he’s leaving.”

“Why would you say that?” Pidge asked, her nose scrunching in confusion. She looked at him warily, and he wanted to hide from her gaze. They obviously didn’t know everything that had happened between him and Lance.

“It’s a long story?” He hoped that the statement would do for now and Pidge seemed to give up on following it through.

She shook her head, still looking pissed. “Well, what are you going to do now, Kogane?”

“Well, we’re going to go after him, of course.” Allura stated, drawing the teenagers’ attentions. “And we have to go quick before his plane takes off.”

Allura turned around and walked out, prompting the others to follow after her. Keith got up off the bed, his eye suddenly catching on a set of yellow and orange folded up on the chair. His heart hurt when he recognised the familiar outfit and in a spur of impulse he shouted, “wait!”

He plucked the clothes off the chair, almost tearing up as he remembered seeing Lance for the first time and their first date. Lance had walked into his life, slightly dishevelled but also wearing Keith’s fiery colours like he was meant for it. Maybe it had been a sign? Maybe it was a coincidence? But either way it made something warm flutter in Keith’s chest.

When he turned back around he saw everyone looking at him like he was crazy. Pidge was the one to finally ask the question.

“Why are you stealing Lance’s clothes?”

Keith blushed, but he didn’t let the embarrassment second guess his actions as he tugged the clothes tighter to his chest. “He’ll know why,” he answered simply, walking past them and towards the car to go after Lance.

After so many times of running away from the witch, he was finally running after Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers!
> 
> Wow can you believe it nine chapters later and the boys are FINALLY getting somewhere! Yes, Keith go chase your boy!
> 
> As you may have noticed, the chapter count of this story has gone down and the next chapter will be the last chapter of the story! The eleventh chapter of the story was always meant to be an epilogue and I've decided to make that into a separate one-shot in order to give it some more length and time. I'm also involved the the For the Love of Blue Big Bang and the Klance Pinefest, which I need to be creating stories for too! (stay tuned for my future work).
> 
> I'm a moderator for the Klance Pinefest, which is a klance big bang centred around pining! If you're curious about following it or participating come check it out: [here!](https://www.klancepinefest.tumblr.com/)
> 
> In addition to that, I'm running a Klance fanfiction survey, in which fans can vote for their favourite fanfics which will be put into an ao3 collection! Of course, you by no means have to vote for my fics and, in fact I'm super curious to see which fics are your favs! So please take five minutes and vote for your favourite fics: [here!](https://www.klancefanficsurvey.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Please consider a kudos and comment! I absolutely love hearing from you lovely people!


	10. In the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello y'all! I'm sorry for the wait, but I'm so glad to present to you the final chapter this story.
> 
> Don't listen to me, go on and read...

**Chapter 10: In the End**

 

**Keith**

Keith thought that maybe he was holding it together well. Even though, he felt like his insides were exploding and his hand was twitching and he was constantly swallowing down the urge to throw up. He _thought_ that maybe he was handling it pretty well… Though maybe not, given from looks that Pidge and Hunk were giving him.

“Are you alright back there, pretty boy?” said the bird familiar, her wings twitching on her shoulders. She was sitting in the front seat next to Allura, her wings crammed against the car door. “You look kinda green around the gills.”

Keith tried to shake his head but quickly stopped when he realised that the motion was making him even sicker. “No, I’m… fine” He certainly was not fine, but like hell was he going to have Allura pull over and possibly miss his chance at catching Lance. He would just have to continue to bear it and try not to puke all over Shiro’s van.

Pidge shrugged and turned her attention back to the road. Hunk was obviously still worried and continued to side eye him from where he was seated beside Keith. “You know, it’s fine if we need to stop. I get carsick too sometimes.”

“I’m not carsick,” Keith snapped, immediately realising how aggressive he sounded and quickly apologising. “I’m sorry. Really, I’m not getting sick, I’m just nervous.”

The witch gave him a comforting smile and nodded his head in understanding. “Yeah, if I was in your situation I probably would be too.”

“Yeah, you should have seen him when he was working up the courage to ask me to be his familiar.” Pidge piped up from shotgun. She was grinning evilly, practically wrapping herself over the chair to look back at them. “He must have stumbled over the words five times and when he finally did say them, he asked he so quickly that I didn’t understand anything of what he was saying.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Hunk protested weaking, he seemed to also be smiling at the memory.

Pidge rolled her eyes, “It was that bad, Hunk, you gotta admit it. Don’t worry, though, that doesn’t stop team Punk!” She held out her fist and the witch and familiar fistbumped with a cheer.

Keith sat watching, his eyes as wide as saucers. He had never seen a witch-familiar pair like them. They were both so different from Shiro and Allura’s calm and peaceful aura. They were bursting with energy and playfully pushing and pulling against each other. For others, the bond would have been too disorganised, chaotic even, but between the two of them… It just worked.

Keith almost couldn’t believe it, but, granted, he had never been around many witch-familiar pairs. He didn’t grow up seeing witches, as he was raised in an orphanage for familiars. In fact, the first witch familiar bond that he had ever seen was Shiro and Allura’s bond a couple years into his living with Shiro.

**Before**

Keith and Shiro were laid out on the couch. They were both on their sides, with Keith tucked into Shiro’s chest, letting his brother throw a comforting wing around him like a blanket. They were watching a mindless movie on the television, spending a lazy Saturday night together.

Keith was about two seconds away from falling asleep before Shiro spoke up, the words rumbling through his chest.

“So Allura is going to be coming over for a couple days.”

Keith stiffened, all his muscles tightening at once as a cold understanding seeped into him. A witch. Allura was a witch. That meant that Shiro was bringing a witch _here_. The realisation was quickly replaced by fear as Keith registered that meant a witch was going to be coming into his home, his _safe place -_ and there was nothing he could do about it. With his second bond still fresh in his mind, he couldn’t help the raw panic. Memories of _that_ witch were still so vivid he could practically feel the collar wrapping itself around his throat. His body began to tremble and he fought off the urge to just run away.

He tried to hold it back, and not let his brother know, but Shiro must have felt it, since suddenly he was drawing Keith in even closer.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re safe. I got you.” Shiro whispered as he gently petted Keith’s ears to get him to calm down. His brother grounded him, and whispered assurances. Slowly, with each comforting minute, the trembling ceased.

But he still clung to Shiro’s shirt.

“Keith, you have to trust me. I would never let anyone hurt you here. You’re safe. I promise.”

The kitten wanted to believe that. He desperately wanted to believe that, but the memory of his two forced bonds were still raw and hurting.

“But,” he croaked out, “But she’s a witch.”

Shiro met his eyes and Keith was surprised to see heartbreak in them.

“I know, Keith, and I know that witches have only ever hurt you, but I need you to know that there are good witches in the world. I promise you, Allura is one of the good ones and I need you to see that. You’re okay with that, right?”

Keith nodded. He didn’t dare say a word, knowing that if he did, his brother would know he was lying. He wasn’t okay. This wasn’t alright, but he didn’t have a choice.

So they sat there, Shiro turning his attention back to the movie, unaware of Keith’s internal fear. The kitten shoved the feeling deep down into his stomach. He tried desperately to watch the movie, anything to keep the memories out of his head.

When Shiro tried to carry him to bed that night, he sunk his claws deep into his brother’s shirt and refused to let go. Neither of them said a word about it, and Shiro stayed up, rubbing Keith’s back and chasing the nightmares away.

Keith met Allura the next day, fearing the worst. He had imagined she would be distant and cold like every other witch he met. He thought she would evaluate him, silently deciding his worth through a calculating grimace.

He was not prepared for the warmth she brought.

“And Allura, this is my little brother, Keith. He may look shy now, but you wouldn’t believe how much mischief he gets into.”

Keith was hiding behind Shiro’s wings, flinching when the limb was suddenly jerked away, revealing him to the witch’s eyes. He hunched over and stared at the ground, his breath hitching in his chest. He picked frantically at his fingernail, silently hoping that he could just disappear into the floor.

“Hello Keith, my name is Allura Altea. It’s very nice to meet you.”

The kitten jolted - not because of the tone of the voice, but because of what tone she hadn’t held.

It wasn’t angry, or disappointed, or bored, or simply done with him. It didn’t scathe against his ears or promise brutality if he didn’t listen. It didn’t sound like someone who would hurt him… it didn’t sound like someone who would leave.

Cautiously, Keith lifted his eyes, chancing a look at the witch. He saw kindness and that startled him more than it should have.

“Hello,” Keith mumbled, his voice scratchy in his throat. He desperately wanted to hide behind Shiro’s wing again. His brother, however, was keeping his wings tight against his body, making it impossible for Keith to duck behind him.

The witch didn’t seem bothered by his fidgeting and her warm smile never wavered. Her eyes were sparkling and blue, crinkled at the edges because of the smile. In a small motion, she stretched out her open palm, offering Keith a handshake.

The familiar’s eyes flicked between the hand and the witch’s face. The hand seemed gentle and Shiro seemed confident that the witch wouldn’t hurt him so... Slowly, he reached forward and allowed her to shake his hand. Her hand was soft and warm against his.

“Such a gentleman,” she giggled, and her laugh rang like bells. She looked up towards Shiro with a grin. “You never mentioned how polite he was.”

Shiro rolled his eyes, placing a hand on Keith’s shoulders. “He usually isn’t, trust me. This kitten is pure trouble.” He spoke with a laugh.

Keith’s ears flattened and he turned to glare at his annoying brother. “No, I’m not Shiro.” he argued, “I’m very nice. You’re rude.”

The eagle familiar shot the kitten an unamused glance, and Keith met his look seriously, not willing to back down. He squared his shoulders defiantly, the fur on his tail puffing up a little bit.

The witch put a hand to her mouth, laughing behind her palm. “Keith, you must have a very exhausting job trying to keep Shiro in line.”

The cat familiar turned back to the witch, his fear easing away in light of the witch’s warm smiles and kind words. Despite all his inhibitions, he discovered a small affection growing towards the witch.

“Yes, Miss Altea. He never listens to me and sometimes he eats ice cream at 1 am while he watches Disney movies” Keith leaned in conspiratorially, “he cries at _all_ the sad parts.” Shiro’s face flushed as the kitten revealed one of his secrets. His hand tightened on his brother’s shoulder and he gave the boy a dark glare that promised retribution later.

The pretty witch chuckled, meeting Keith’s eyes, “I’m sure you have many stories you could tell me about Shiro, don’t you?” The kitten’s eyes immediately lit up with mischief.

“Oh, of course!” He was practically bouncing with excitement, “Like this one time…”

The day continued from there, with Keith telling Allura story after story of Shiro embarrassing himself, and Allura telling tales of her travels. Through the jokes, the laughter, and kind, comforting words, she won over the cat familiar. That night he went to bed hoping that he would get a witch like Allura someday.

He wanted someone kind and soft, someone who was quiet and would listen. Someone who could read through his silence and was content with just being with each other. His bondmate would have tender magic, one that flowed softly against his and he would never doubt that they were there for him.

As he sat in his bed staring at the ceiling, he prayed for his witch to come soon.

**Now**

He couldn’t help himself from wondering about how Lance would be as a bondmate. He had only felt quick bursts of his magic from the short times they were connected and, of course, he had felt the witch’s soul. But neither of those were enough and both left him aching for more. He didn’t want to just know Lance, he wanted to experience Lance.

He wanted to figure out what made Lance grin. He wanted to know the embarrassing stories. He wanted the soft mornings and the gentle smiles. He wanted to feel the boy’s hand in his and run fingers through his hair. He wanted Lance’s quiet glances and joyous laughter. He wanted to brush away Lance’s tears and make him the happiest witch alive.

He had never thought that he would ever want these things, and yet… That’s exactly what he wanted.

Lance was a far cry from the list he had made long ago. He wasn’t a quiet presence or a patient listener. His magic wasn’t gentle, it roared like the pounding sea and rushed like a crashing river. He wasn’t content with silences, and instead felt the need to fill a space with his personality.

Despite all that, Keith wouldn’t change one bit of him.

Lance was better, so much better than Keith had ever imagined.

 _Please, please let me get there on time_ Keith silently prayed, hoping that maybe this time his prayers wouldn’t go unanswered.

“Hey, so what are you going to do with those clothes?” Hunk asked, breaking Keith away from his thoughts. He blinked at the sudden question and looked down at the clothes in his lap.

“I’m going to wear them,” Keith stated, the sentence sounding much firmer than he felt about it, “actually, I should start changing.” He said as he unbuckled his seatbelt. The car immediately began to beep in protest, but he ignored the automatic safety feature.

“Keith, what the hell are you doing?” Allura hissed, trying to drive and glare back at him at the same time. The van began drifting into another lane and Allura cursed as she righted it.

Keith chuckled as he crawled over the van’s back seat and into its spacious trunk. He was lucky that Shiro was enough of a dork to think a mom van was a practical car. It would definitely make changing a lot easier.

“Keith, I swear to God. Get back into your seat and put your seatbelt on before you get yourself killed.” Allura was shouting, her face getting redder with anger by the minute.

Any other time, Keith would have immediately listened to her, but now fuelled by the desire to do something romantic for once in his life, he simply didn’t care.

“Don’t worry, ‘Lura! I’m a cat. We got nine lives.” His voice was muffled by fabric as he pulled his shirt up over his head. There was a silence in the car, until Allura exploded.

“Keith Akira Kogane, if you don’t get into your seat this instant I will pull this car over and glue your fluffy ass to the seat.”

The cat laughed as he put Lance’s shirt on, frantically trying to fight with his pants to get them off. Allura fumed, glaring at the road. Hunk and Pidge had been silently the entire time, and Keith could see both of them holding back laughter. He pulled on Lance’s orange shorts, ignoring the way that they were a bit tight in the ass and there was no hole for his tail. He would be able to deal with the discomfort.

With a grunt, he pulled himself back over the seat and quickly strapped his seatbelt on. “See! Still alive.” He chirped, a smug grin on his face.

Allura glared at him through the rear window. “You and me will have words later,” she paused, before ominously adding, “with Shiro.”

He gulped, a shiver of fear jumping up his spine.

Pidge and Hunk both burst out with the laughter they were holding back. The car filled with happy sounds, and Keith couldn’t help smiling.

“Look!” Pidge explained as she pointed out the window. The sign for the airport passed by and Allura began pulling into the entrance.

All of the sudden, all the happy feelings that Keith had a moment ago rushed out of him.

“I don’t think I can do this.” He muttered, his eyes wide as the large building loomed over them. His nerves were strung out suddenly, and he felt his breath begin to quicken in his chest. He kept gulping in air, but didn’t seem to be taking in anymore oxygen.

Next to him, Hunk startled and turned to face him, his huge brown eyes filled with worry. “Hey, are you okay?”

That was the question wasn’t it? One of many that Keith was constantly asking himself. If only he didn’t also have to be the one answering it.

“I don’t know?” he whispered in a moment of honesty, his head began to hurt as thoughts raced through his mind. Those old questions of ‘Is he good enough?’ ‘Did he even deserve this?’ resurfaced viciously like a sea serpent rising from the water.

Because perhaps he didn’t, perhaps this was just him kidding himself, setting himself up for disappointment…

“Keith, Keith… Come back to us, buddy.” Hunk’s gentle voice drew him back into the car and out of the tempest of his own thoughts. The earth witch was looking at him kindly, even as worry sparked in his eyes. He reached forward slowly and grasped Keith’s hand. The witch gently rubbed the familiar’s knuckles. The small motion grounding Keith more than he ever thought it would.

“I’m sorry,” Keith mumbled staring at his lap. He didn’t dare look up and see their looks of pity.

“Why are you sorry?” Hunk asked, squeezing his knuckles as he did. Keith couldn’t help but look up. The witch met his eyes with a warm confidence. “Keith, you are doing the single bravest, most romantic thing that I’ve ever seen anyone do. I don’t know what happened between you and Lance, but obviously it was something difficult, and to see you overcoming that… It’s inspiring really. So don’t you dare say you’re sorry for doing the right thing.”

Keith released a breath he didn’t even know he was holding and gave Hunk a gracious smile. He noticed that the van had stopped and he turned, looking at the other people in the car. Allura and Pidge were both nodding, giving their silent support.

“Thank you,” he whispered, holding back a sudden urge to cry. It’s been a long time since people had been so supportive of, and confident in him.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Pidge asked with a smile on her lips, “Go get your loverboy.”

Without another word, Keith opened the car door and began walking to the airport. Behind him, he heard the cheers from the car and couldn’t help looking back with a smile. They were all giving him thumbs up and waving him forward.

He walked through the airport entrance and was immediately hit with the bustling crowds of the airport. People milled all around him, dragging luggage behind them, or carting whining children to the correct terminal. Voices were constantly shouting over each other and the speakers above were shouting “important safety announcements”.

Keith backed away from the onslaught and almost got bowled over by a rushing passenger tugging a suitcase almost the size of her.

 _I’m never going to find Lance in this madhouse_ Keith thought to himself as he desperately tried to gain his bearings. A panic started to rise in his chest, but he fought to keep it down, trying to think through this logically.

Lance didn’t have much time on them, so he probably hadn’t gone through security. Keith needed to cut Lance off before that or else he would have to buy a plane ticket to track the witch down.

First things first though, he needed to figure out which flight was Lance’s.

He raced to the bright LED board that displayed the departure times and destinations for each flight. There was only one more flight to Florida, luckily, so Keith guessed and began to race off in the direction of the terminal.

 He darted through the airport, dodging between suitcases and practically destroying a store’s sign that they had propped up outside. He yelled a “sorry” behind him, ignoring the angry employee who was shouting colourful names at him.

His eyes were frantically searching, darting between mops of brown hair, hunting for _anything_ familiar.

But everyone was the wrong one. Every time he thought he saw Lance, it turned out of be a figment of his imagination, like a mirage that was constantly slipping away.

And he couldn’t help it, he was slowly losing hope. He kept running, though, until he had to stop. There was nowhere else to go. He turned and desperately looking at strangers’ faces.

 _Maybe I should just give up?_ He thought to himself, his chest heaving, his heart nearly bursting.

And then…

And then, he saw him.

Lance was standing near the airport directory, his face scrunched in concentration. He had a duffle bag and suitcase by his feet and he was tracing a finger over a path on the glowing airport map. His face was lit up from the screen, awash in a blue glow.

He looked tired, his hair was ruffled and his shoulders were sagging forward. Keith could see the exhaustion written on his skin, and his heart hurt knowing that he had caused it.

Despite that though, Lance was the most beautiful thing that Keith had ever seen.

“Lance!” He shouted, running forward before he could doubt himself. The witch froze when he heard him, turning slowly with wide eyes.

He didn’t run away though, and Keith kept moving forward. He fought through the airport, pushing people away, his eyes not leaving Lance for a second. He feared that if he looked away Lance would disappear.

Lance kept standing there, though, as if he were waiting for the familiar.

Keith smiled, finally feeling like he was doing something truly right. Something important. Something that was going to change his life forever.

His heart fluttered with that _something,_ and he met his destiny.

 

 

**Lance**

Lance tried not to think as he left.

He tried not to think about his family, how confused they’d be as he came back with neither a curse nor a familiar.

He tried not to think about Pidge or Hunk, nor the moment they realised that he would not be coming back.

And above all else, he tried not to think about Keith, about the hatred that the familiar must feel towards him.

He was trying not to, and yet, at the same time, he was failing.

It hurt.

The Uber pulled up to the airport, weaving between parked cars and hurrying passengers. It stopped and Lance unbuckled his seatbelt with a quick thanks before getting out. He popped the trunk and hauled out his luggage, before beginning to fight through the heavy crowds.

He went immediately to the ticketing agent and waited in a long line before he could finally get his boarding pass. After receiving his flight information, he began dragging his luggage towards security.

The thoughts of leaving and the already blooming pain of separation roared in the back of his mind. His magic rose in his chest, trying desperately to caress it away. He gave his magic the feeling of gratitude, even as he began to fight back tears.

He had lost track of how many times he had fought back his tears today.

He ducked into the bathroom, hiding his face and ignoring concerned looks from strangers. He immediately raced into the large wheelchair stall at the end.

He shoved his bags against the walls and then just stood there, letting the emotions crash around him. The tears came immediately, rushing out like water released from a dam. A sob rattled in his chest and he couldn’t find it in himself to choke it down.

Where was he? What was he doing? How did he end up here? Another heavy breath shook through his ribcage. Earlier that day, he had conquered death, so why wasn’t he feeling happier about it? He knew why, though, and he couldn’t shake the part of him that felt like he had lost his life instead of having gained it back.

He wished he had done so many things different. There were so many things he should have said, could’ve done, but was too afraid to reveal.

And yet, through all of that, he didn’t regret meeting Keith or giving the familiar freedom from the Garrison. Because for all the terrible things he had done over the last few days, he knew for sure that that was the one thing he got right.

He took a few breaths to steady himself and wiped away the tears with some bath tissue. He splashed water on his face until the redness receded from his eyes. Taking one last look at himself in the mirror, before deciding that he could probably pass as someone who hadn’t been crying in a bathroom a few minutes earlier.

He went back out into the airport, amazed by the amount of people milling around. There was some shouting in the distance and he laughed to himself when he thought of the poor soul that was rushing through the airport. Poor guy was probably about to miss his flight.

Lance searched through the airport, trying to figure out which security he should go to, before he finally gave up and went to the airport map. The glow from the board stung his eyes and he had to squint to see it.

Suddenly, there was a shout and Lance heard his name over the clamouring of the crowd. He froze, ice running through his veins. His whirling mind skidded to a stop, before it went immediately into hyperdrive trying to process the voice.

Distantly, he heard his name shouted again, but it was nearly deafened by the roar of his own mind. Inside him, his magic scrambled, just as confused as he was.

Because it couldn’t.

It couldn’t…

It couldn’t be the one person that he was trying to get away from… And yet, he _knew_ that voice.

He just… Couldn’t believe it.

He turned slowly, his eyes widening when they confirmed what his brain already knew. Keith was tearing through the airport, a crazed look on his face. His hair was a mess, he had bags under his eyes, his face was red and flushed with the exertion of having to sprint through an airport.

His gaze was fixed on Lance, and suddenly, Lance felt like a gazelle in front of a lion. His brain screamed “run!”, but his feet were planted firmly in place. He couldn’t move. He could hardly even breathe as Keith came running up to him.

And, suddenly, Keith was there and he was pulling his arm back and Lance flinched, expecting to be punched in the face.

He closed his eyes, waiting for the strike, but instead he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

“Lance,” Keith said his name like it was a prayer, like it was the lighthouse in a stormy sea, like it was the only thing he ever wanted on his lips. Keith said his name and it sounded like a dream.

But that’s the thing about dreams, they can’t be real.

“Keith, why are you here?” He asked, fighting to keep his voice even. It shook with nerves, though, and Lance couldn’t help taking a small step back to put distance between them. Keith matched him, however, taking a step forward like this was some kind of dance.

“I’m here to stop you.” The familiar spoke confidently, completely blindsiding Lance. He had expected Keith to say a lot of things, a lot of angry and hurtful things, but _stopping him_ had never crossed his mind.

Lance blinked, unable to form words. _Why?_ Why would Keith come here? Why would he chase after him when the familiar had made it so clear that he never wanted to see Lance again?

“Stop me?” he finally stuttered out, “Why would you stop me?”

“Because I’ve made a huge mistake.” Lance blinked again and felt his hands start to shake. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he… What was happening right now?

He looked at Keith. He really _looked_ at Keith, and for the first time noticed that the familiar was smiling.

And also that he was wearing Lance’s clothes, which is, of course, what Lance’s dumbass mind decided to focus on instead of the mind-boggling realisation that Keith was _here_ and apparently, _not_ going to punch him.

“Are you wearing my clothes?” He blurted out, instantly wanting to groan at himself when he did. Across from him, the familiar blinked, drawing his hand back to pick self-consciously at his -no, Lance’s- shirt. The familiar went from confident to embarrassed in a split-second.

“I… um… yes?” Keith was blushing deeply, and though Lance had absolutely no idea what was going on, his mind helpfully supplied _God, he’s so fucking cute._ Lance cursed his bi heart for being absolutely useless right now.

Keith scraped his foot against the ground, hands rapidly pulling at the too big shirt. “I thought it would be romantic? Because like it’s the outfit we met in and you wore it to that date…” The familiar was stumbling over the words before seemingly giving up, “I get it. It’s stupid. It was a dumb idea”

“No, it wasn’t. It’s sweet.” Lance smiled softly before he could think better of it. “I just don’t understand what’s going on here... Keith, you gotta tell me what’s happening.”

The familiar looked up, meeting Lance’s eyes. “I’m here to take back what I said. I don’t want you to leave. I want the exact opposite actually.”

Lance reeled back, almost tripping over his duffle at his feet.

The opposite of leaving was staying. _But why?_ Why would Keith possibly want him to stay?

“I don’t understand. Why aren’t you mad at me?” The witch repeated, unable to come up with anything else to say.

The familiar smiled and gently took Lance’s hand. “Lance, how could I possibly be mad at you? You gave up your bond to let me have time with my family. You were willing to move away and leave your friends just to make me happy. Lance, you showed your soul to me and I saw _it_. I know the way you feel towards me. How could I possibly, _possibly_ , be mad at you?”

Tears were brimming in both their eyes. The familiar was looking at him like he set the stars in the sky and he couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. Keith took a breath, before speaking again. “Make a bond with me.”

“I, what? Keith, I can’t. You can’t possibly want-“

Keith cut him off before he could continue denying. “Please, Lance, I promise it will be different. Make a bond, a real bond, with me.”

The witch felt Keith’s magic rise, gently reaching out towards his own. Before Lance could convince himself otherwise, he met it and let his blue magic flow across their fragile connection.

Lance knew instantly that this time was different. It didn’t have any of the pent up stress or the chaotic scrambling of Lance’s previous panic. Keith’s magic brushed up against him and it suddenly felt like Lance was being let in from the cold. It was warm and welcoming like a crackling fireplace and Lance just wanted to curl up in front of it.

He didn’t realise it until this moment, but he _missed_ Keith. He missed him more than he had missed anything in his life. He missed him like a breath. He missed him like a memory. He missed him like he was a dream that Lance was grasping to remember.

He missed everything about him. And now, seeing him here with that smile and those eyes and that naked, optimistic hope.

Lance reached out and took Keith’s other hand, the familiar looking up with a smile. Between them, Lance felt Keith’s magic warm with affection, translating through the flicker of heat.

“Keith, this is amazing.” Lance whispered. He had dreamed of this moment for such a long time, and it was so much better than he ever imagined. The familiar smiled at him and leaned in closer.

“Here,” he said quietly, “Let me return the favour.”

And before he could ask what Keith meant, Lance gasped in shock because suddenly the familiar was opening his soul. Lance saw everything. He saw Keith’s emotions and all his hopes and fears.

Up at the forefront was all Keith’s feelings about seeing Lance again. There was anxiety, yes, but even more than that was the familiar’s desire for this to just go right. Because hidden in all of the familiar’s swirling emotions, was something warm and bright.

Something that made Lance feel like he was finally completed.

Something that could easily change his life.

Something that felt almost exactly like love.

“Keith,” Lance whispered, barely able to speak through the flood of emotions. “I can’t believe it, do you really?”

The familiar didn’t answer with words. His magic gave Lance a split-second of warning, before suddenly he was kissing Lance.

He kissed like a wildfire, an inferno, a barely contained flame that threatened to burn Lance through, inside out. Keith’s emotions ricocheted between the bond, his love complimenting Lance’s own and amplifying. Everything felt hot, like lava was running through his veins and Lance felt like he could burst at any moment. It was so much more than Lance could have ever imagined and before he was ready the familiar broke the kiss.

Their breathes lingered between the two of them and Keith leaned forward to rest his forehead against Lance’s.

Slowly, Keith’s soul receded back, going back to normal. Lance would never forget what it felt like though. The connection between them weakened, but unlike every other time they had made a connection before, it remained softly, fragile and new, but pulsing with life and potential, in the background still there. Together they were going to make it strong.

“Wow,” Lance gasped, unable to say anything else. “That was… That was… Thank you.”

Keith burst out laughing. “Did you just thank me for kissing you?” He said through a giggle. “Oh my god, you’re such a dork.”

Lance’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment, but he tried to hide it behind a confident smirk. “I guess, but I’m your dork now, though.”

“Yeah, I guess you are.” Keith said, leaning in to kiss Lance again. This one was softer though, gentler like sweet nothings and whispered promises. Lance couldn’t wait to discover every single one of Keith’s kisses.

Lance looked down at Keith taking in how beautiful the familiar looked in this moment. He never ever wanted to forget how Keith looked right now. He moved his hands to Keith’s hips and pulled the familiar closer. He laughed when he realised that he was tugging at his own shirt.

“I never would have pinned you for the hopeless romantic type.” He chuckled as he rolled the yellow shirt between his fingers. He couldn’t believe that Keith had dug up this stupid outfit. Where did he even get it? Had he stolen it from Lance’s room? Did he break into his house?

Keith shrugged, looking down at what he was wearing. “I thought it would make an impression.”

“It certainly makes an impression. I just can’t believe it stuck out to you.”

Keith scoffed, meeting Lance’s eyes with a playful sparkle. “You came to me, unafraid, dressed in my colours, looking like the sun. Everyone else just passed right by me, everyone but you. I could never forget.”

“And then you punched me in the face.”

Keith laughed and the sound rang out like bells, “And then I punched you.” There was a comfortable pause before Keith turned, his hand still holding Lance’s. “Now why don’t we get you home. I happen to know that there’s two witches and a bird familiar who are dying to know how this all went.” The familiar was talking rapidly, obviously happy and bubbling with excitement. Lance smiled affectionately and he felt Keith’s magic gently return the feeling through their new bond.

Keith pulled him forward and Lance followed. Together they went, witch and familiar, out of the airport and into the evening air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, a huge thank you to all the readers!! Your encouragement, kudos and comments helped me write this and turn it into something I can really be proud of. I love every single one of you and appreciate you so much for sticking with this project. 
> 
> As always a huge thank you goes out to my betas Cyan and Zo. Their help and hope in this project has been instrumental in its completion. I can't thank them enough for putting up with all my "said"'s, "and"'s and half-formed sentences. 
> 
> As much as I've loved working on this story, though, I'm excited to work on other projects too (a mermaid au perhaps??)  
> If you want to keep up my work, you can find my general ramblings on tumblr [here!](https://www.salparadiselost.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I'm a moderator for the Klance Pinefest, which is a klance big bang centred around pining! If you're curious about following it or participating come check it out: [here!](https://www.klancepinefest.tumblr.com/)
> 
> In addition to that, I'm running a Klance fanfiction survey, in which fans can vote for their favourite fanfics which will be put into an ao3 collection! Of course, you by no means have to vote for my fics and, in fact I'm super curious to see which fics are your favs! So please take five minutes and vote for your favourite fics: [here!](https://www.klancefanficsurvey.tumblr.com/)
> 
> That's all for now! so again a HUGE THANK YOU!! and please consider leaving me a comment on what you thought!!


End file.
